"SC-S28/W4-Movie Highlights|Genre Flip (About Time)

The movie casts

Domhnall Gleeson as Tim Lake
Rachel McAdams as Mary
Bill Nighy as James Lake
Lydia Wilson as Kit Kat
Lindsay Duncan as Mary Lake
Richard Cordery as Uncle Desmond
Joshua McGuire as Rory
Tom Hollander as Harry Chapman
Margot Robbie as Charlotte
Will Merrick as Jay
Vanessa Kirby as Joanna
Tom Hughes as Jimmy Kincade
Clemmie Dugdale as Ginger Jenny
Harry Hadden-Paton as Rupert
Mitchell Mullen as Mary's Father
Fitz Lisa Eichhorn as Mary's Mother
Jean Jenny Rainsford as Polly
Richard Griffiths and
Richard E. Grant make uncredited appearances as lawyer characters, with Griffiths's being his final film role.

I avoid romance movies most of the time because they mostly feel like they are built on a hollow formula rather than on human connection, and it usually feels like a reduction to human experience.

The genre tends to emphasize "The Chase" over the relationship at hand. So we watch two people bicker, misunderstand each other for an hour, and then kiss before the credits roll. We rarely see why they actually like each other or how they navigate life's boring, non-cinematic moments.

There are few genre movies where the stakes are pretty much life and death; in romance it is really usually "miscommunication". I find it tough to invest in a genre that treats "The Chase" as the climax of existence.

And then there's also the impossible-to-be-entertained-by stakes. With most genres, if the hero fails, the world ends or someone dies. In romance, if they fail, they date some other person.
I've always found it hard to take the tension seriously, since being single a few months longer is literally the worst outcome.

My problem has always been that romance movies tend to end exactly where real life begins. They sell us the "Happily Ever After" myth, completely skirting the fact that love is not about the grand airport gesture, but it's about paying bills, enduring the silence, and navigating the in-between moments.

Lastly, I also avoid the genre because, frankly, I find it intellectually lazy. I don't want to watch two beautiful people pretend they have problems; I want to watch stories that reflect the messy, gritty reality of being alive.

Source

The film dismantled my belief that romance is "shallow." It proved that, when done right, romance is actually the highest form of stakes.
It showed me that the genre doesn't have to be about falling in love, which is easy; it can be about the Herculean effort of staying in love while life throws curveballs at you.
It taught me that my cynicism wasn't a sign of intelligence but rather a defense mechanism against vulnerability.

It completely subverted my expectations. It wasn't enough that it changed my mind; it shamed my prejudice. About Time functions as a perfect "Trojan Horse."
It lures you in with the promise of a whimsical RomCom-­boy meets girl, boy uses time travel to fix awkward dates-­but then it quietly locks the door and forces you to confront the devastating beauty of mortality.

A young man, Tom, finds out the men in his family can travel back in time-and then uses that mechanic to tell a deeply human story.
While it didn't get me running to watch every Hallmark movie ever created, it proved that "Romance" doesn't have to equate to "Cheesy."
The film treated the romantic relationship not as the chaotic climax of the movie but rather as a stable foundation to explore other things: grief, time, and family.

It really taught me that a romance movie doesn't have to be about falling in love; it can be about living in love.

Source

I went in expecting a love story between a man and a woman; I got blindsided by a love story between a father and a son.

The most surprising component was the "Third Act" of the movie. Normally, a romance movie fabricated melodrama—a cheating scandal or a jealous ex—to fill the runtime. About Time does the opposite: the couple is happy, they are stable, and the antagonist isn't a person; the antagonist is Time itself.

Perhaps the biggest surprise, however, was how the love storyline of the main couple, Tim and Mary, is actually the least dramatic part of this film.
The "will they/won't they" tension is resolved perhaps a little more than halfway in. They get together, they are happy, there is no contrived breakup, misunderstandings, or secret villain trying to steal her away.

The movie pivots to become a deep father-son drama. I went in expecting a story about a boy using time travel to get the girl, but I walked out with a story about a son using time travel to get a few more minutes with his dad.
The emotional weight moved from "How do I win her heart?" to "How do I say goodbye?" That depth of emotion caught me utterly by surprise and had me in tears-something I never thought a movie containing a wedding scene could do.

Source

Yes, but to a different standard. About Time has ruined me for the cheap formulaic fluff, yet it opened my eyes to what the genre was truly capable of.

I will seek out romance films that tend to view love through wider lenses. About Time worked because the film understood that romantic love was but one slice of a full life, right alongside familial love, the love of friends, and the appreciation of time itself.

I will look out for romance films that view love not as a trophy to be won but as a lens through which one perceives the world. If I can find more movies using romance as a vehicle to explore the human condition—rather than just a vehicle to sell Valentine's Day cards—then count me in.
This experience taught me that dismissing a whole genre means missing out on the rare gems that transcend their labels.

If a movie can promise me that it explores the connection of two souls with the same gravity that a war movie explores conflict or a horror movie explores fear, then I'm all in.
This taught me perhaps I don't hate romance; I hate it when it's wasted. About Time didn't waste a second.