Directed by Harry MacQueen, Supernova voices the heartbreak of losing a loved one to dementia but has a narrow focus of reality. While the conversations are lyrical and powerful, the film doesn’t provide a down-to-earth portrayal of the condition that affects both of the main protagonists, albeit in different ways. 

Tusker (Stanley Tucci), a successful writer, has gradually lost his ability to write and read, and dreads the confusion that comes next with his partner Sam (Colin Firth). To escape looming pain, the couple travels o’er vales and hills on a road trip to visit their family, and to explore their old haunts. As both men reminisce over the past, tension mounts when Tusker dismisses the future.

Supernova really embraces the leads’ ages: their hair is streaked with grey, and they have delicate reading glasses perched on their noses and soft wrinkles on their clasped hands. The landscapes around them are reassuringly constant, and the mists rolling over the lake — accompanied by a twittering birdsong — remind Tusker and Sam of the past. While gay love has often been tragic in cinema, the couple in Supernova celebrates years and years of partnership before it fades from Tusker’s memory. Their dynamic is entertaining and sweet, as Tusker is very American (stoically old-fashioned but adventurous) while Sam is an English home-body who has embraced technology. The couple’s bickering while driving brings much needed comedic relief, and reveals how much they love and know each other. 

Dementia is a heartbreaking reality, and it’s captured by the pain in Tusker’s eyes — masked by his jovial expression and sardonic wit — and also in the clearer distress of Sam as he easily panics and cries. The piercing, poetic dialogue brings out incredible acting from both Tucci and Firth, but there’s something too perfect about the writing that almost removes belief in the story when one can feel so conscious of the performances. Supernova could easily translate into a play at the National Theatre, especially given its upper middle class setting. Like the knitwear the pair don, it’s a comfortable and rustic location. For a London theatre audience, the spacious cottages with pans on the walls and wine galore is familiar territory — but in Supernova, it feels like a cozy backdrop rather than a realistic setting.

Tusker and Sam’s struggle also seems one-dimensional, as both men are retired and have successfully pursued their creative dreams in the past. Supernova doesn’t cover the struggles of others, but rather focuses on Tusker’s illness as the main hurdle. Despite the unrelatable circumstances, the singular narrative focus is easier to follow, and the protagonists’ artistic backgrounds suit the most melodramatic moments, such as when Tusker writes a soulful speech and when Sam plays “Salut d’amour” by Edward Elgar. Alongside the towering majesty of nature around the main characters, the disease is like a sublime, unstoppable force, and it truly feels as if the sun is setting on the couple’s time together. These celestial implications are amplified in the moonlight and through the metaphor of a dying star — it is especially vindicating to see a gay love story in this upper echelon of romantic tragedy usually reserved for straight couples. 

Supernova is a film that many will cherish if audiences can be absorbed by the overt metaphors and can look beyond the Rich White Male vantage point. Plus, the heartfelt performances and conversations about dementia will speak to those facing the same struggle. 

Fatima Sheriff (@reaffirmsfaith) is a freelance film critic and studying to be a science communicator at Imperial College London.