Writer-director David Freyne and co-writer Patrick Cunnane clearly did not listen to the lady in the radiator from “Eraserhead.” In the heaven of their film, “Eternity,” everything is far from fine. The afterlife provides a poignant setting for an impossible conundrum for Elizabeth Olsen’s Joan Cutler, scrambling any notion that death offers a simple “happily ever after.”
At the outset of the film, Joan follows in short succession after the passing of her husband, Larry (Miles Teller). She catches up with him at a waystation from which each soul, reincarnated as the physical manifestation of their happiest state, will choose their specific flavor of eternity. But in addition to her husband of 65 years, she also encounters a first love: Luke (Callum Turner), a Montgomery Clift-looking soldier who died in the Korean War shortly after they wed. That “‘til death do us part” of their respective nuptial vows just got a bit trickier, to say the least.
The setup is certainly recognizable to anyone who’s seen a romantic comedy, especially one starring Reese Witherspoon. A woman has two men, each of whom caters to a specific desire in her spirit, vying for her affection. In Luke lies the potential of a life she never got to live, as well as the idea that there are still unexplored portions of herself. Larry, on the other hand, is a known quantity in whom she has vested decades of memories.
The backdrop against which this fight for Joan’s forever plays out, too, will bear a certain familiarity to other classics in the afterlife genre. Freyne and Cunnane know they are not necessarily treading any ground in “Eternity” that has not been trodden by classics ranging from “A Matter of Life and Death” to “Defending Your Life.” They compensate for the novelty of their concept with creativity in their execution, which goes a long way in making the film such an enjoyable watch.
Their chief contribution to the afterlife genre is the idea that eternity is not a monolith, but a branded experience. Not even heaven is immune to the pressures of the marketplace of ideas, as demonstrated by various salespeople making their pitch for their flavor of perpetual pleasure. “Eternity” jam packs clever details in the brochures and booths that sell these worlds, from Catholic eternity (“what’s life without a little guilt?”) to infantilization land (“never-ending childhood, parents assigned on arrival”) and even World of Satanism (“now with pickleball!”) That it all plays out in what feels like an airport shuttle terminal attached to a corporate conference-friendly DoubleTree Hotel deepens the cosmic irony.
This level of thoughtful, intricate design never pulls focus from the main love stories. It only serves to enhance the experience of watching “Eternity” move toward its inevitable culmination. There’s an elegant simplicity to laying out the stakes so early and giving the characters time to contemplate what Joan’s choice would mean. And when it feels like the film is at risk of stalling out, enter their afterlife coordinators – and additional comic relief – Anna (Da’Vine Joy Randolph) and Ryan (John Early) to goad them toward a resolution.
What the decision ultimately boils down to is two types of love as embodied by the men. Luke is passionate love, while Larry is the kind of companionate love that is unlocked only by spending a lifetime together through the ups and downs. In an afterlife where pain and misery drift away, nothing is stopping Joan from choosing to bask in puppy love for the rest of her days. Larry’s challenge becomes how to make the case for the value of a well-balanced diet when someone could opt for a sugar rush without the ensuing crash-out.
The film’s casting makes this conclusion feel like more of a fight than it might need to be. Turner has always felt most at home playing men cut from a mid-20th-century mold of smoldering masculinity, so the character of Luke fits him like a glove. The script has to consistently undercut his considerable charms by making repeated jokes about how he isn’t perfect, and they play like gangbusters each time.
Teller, on the other hand, is the true protagonist of “Eternity” on paper. The film begins with his death and tracks most closely to his perspective. The star brings a certain steadiness that anchors the film. But his specific brand of wisecracking, self-effacing humor does not entirely translate into playing a character meant to be an old Jewish man. To his credit, Teller really sells one ingenious bit of physical humor: Larry and Joan retain the muscle memory of their octogenarian selves, so they act with incredulity when they can nimbly maneuver into a squat.
The film does ultimately belong to Elizabeth Olsen, whose character must make the deliberations that determine the outcome. It is she who can best translate the high-concept comedy into intimate, immediate romantic stakes. While “Eternity” might not be a sure shot for cinematic immortality, her and the rest of the creative team’s commitment make it a perfectly pleasant way to contemplate the nature of love here on earth. [B+]
“Eternity” releases in theaters on Wednesday, November 26.
