About Time

I feel like "About Time" is almost a cheat code for the modern romance genre. Richard Curtis (of "Love Actually" fame) already knows how to tug at those heartstrings, but here he gets to play with time travel as a metaphor for love, regret, and literally making the most out of your days. The setup’s simple: Tim (Domhnall Gleeson) learns from his dad that the men in their family can travel through time. Predictably, he uses it mostly to win over Mary (Rachel McAdams) and fix some cringey social blunders.

Right off the bat, Gleeson's awkward charm makes you root for Tim, even when he's doing questionable things like rewinding life to tweak how he meets his dream girl. Nothing here is particularly "slick" or "edgy"—the tone is heartfelt and a bit shameless about it, but it’s not trying to be ironic or self-aware. Curtis’s writing lands squarely in cozy territory, with little moments between characters that feel painfully, awkwardly real.

What surprised me is how much the film doubles down on the family angle, especially the bond between Tim and his dad (Bill Nighy, who is basically a living cup of tea in human form). Their scenes together are some of the richest and most memorable, often sidestepping the romance to say something real about growing up and letting go. Even if you come for boy-meets-girl, you’ll probably leave thinking more about fathers and sons.

As romance goes, the chemistry works in that gentle, British, “we’re awkward but cute” way. Rachel McAdams could romantic-lead her way through a cardboard box and I’d still buy it. Here, her Mary isn’t a manic pixie or a fixer-upper—just someone you want to have coffee with. Despite the supernatural hook, there’s barely any tension or real stakes, which makes the plot feel meandering in the middle, almost nap-inducing.

Visually, “About Time” is sun-dappled and rainy and forever autumn, which I guess is Cornwall at its best. The cinematography isn’t especially daring, just warmly lit and soft focused. You can practically smell the wet grass and pub dinners. The soundtrack veers toward safe indie-pop, leaning a little too hard on sentiment at times.

If I have a real complaint, it's that the film is too gentle for its own good. The time travel logic is mostly an excuse to play out emotional what-ifs, and after a while, it gets a little repetitive. Still, I found myself tearing up more than once. It won’t blow your mind, but “About Time” nails a very particular blend of bittersweet and cozy that’s surprisingly rare in modern romance.