Bill Nighy received his first Oscar nomination for portraying Mr. Williams in Living.
Living, a remake of Ikiru, follows a bureaucrat as he discovers he has less than a year to live.
To speak of this performance, of course, spoilers for the entirety of this and Ikiru, though both are films about the journey. I will say it is with a bit of excitement when a noted character actor gets a leading role, particularly a leading role of note, and the idea of the delightfully idiosyncratic Bill Nighy taking over the leading role of the terminally ill bureaucrat did create some anticipation for this film. Nighy being a character actor though I think grants a unique sort of approach within how we enter the story in this version, as if you were to come into the film blind, you might think the film is about the young bureaucrat Mr. Wakeling (Alex Sharp), entering into the world of bureaucracy with how the film opens with his meeting of the other more seasoned bureaucrats at the train station and joining them in conversation on their way to work. Nighy only appears when the men mention seeing their superior Mr. Williams also getting on the train, though never sitting with them, and Nighy's introduction is of note in presentation, however, Nighy's first scene isn't in a way of note. The man seems pre-emptively tired and just almost statuesque as he waits for his train with little interest, rather just procedure. In the county office itself, where we also meet the sprightly Miss Harris (Aimee Lou Wood), Nighy's performance continues as potentially not even the lead. He is off the side of the desk just attending to his duties as the bureaucrat. Nighy's whole demeanor may be of a bit player in a different film as he is hunched over his desk as though looking out from over it for long would be difficult. His eyes nearly always closed off looking just at what particular document as though he is constantly in the process of reading the most boring of novels. His speaking voice, much like in Takashi Shimura's original turn, is a masterful bit of instantly establishing character. In this case, Nighy willfully rids himself of his usual unmistakable and off-beat charisma as a performer in service of giving an immediate sense of who Mr. Williams is when he speaks. Nighy's initial delivery, of just pushing off a request for a children's park, is with nearly a whisper of a voice. A droning voice of a man who makes no bother of himself or anything else. It is hard to tell if there is much life in him at all, as Nighy puts as little energy as possible which so perfectly emphasizes Mr. Williams as a person who goes about his duties more so a barely responding corpse rather than a man.
Nighy subverts the typical protagonist in that Mr. Williams could easily be a background character of no importance in most films, and in most films, we would just forget about this boring man behind the counter who puts little effort into his job or seemingly his life. That makes it all the more remarkable that Mr. Williams is indeed who we are following, and whom we process this story through. A major change in this version is in the original the Japanese bureaucrat is lied to about his prognosis and learns about his true diagnosis of terminal cancer through chance which despite its seeming humanity purposes seems crueler, here the man is told directly of his prognosis. Nighy barely gives a reaction, beyond the faintest glint in his eyes of the man taking it in, that to me in some way evoked the most minimalistic emotions as conveyed by Anthony Hopkins's work in The Remains of Day (which its source novel was written by this film's screenwriter Kazuo Ishiguro). A small reaction befitting a man who really has felt nothing for so long. The subtle brilliance of Nighy's work is especially shown in the following scene where Mr. Williams sits silently at home contemplating his life including the failures of his life including the loss of his wife and the imperfect relationship with his son. Like Ikiru, this is a moment that is painful to watch as Nighy essentially looks upon the memories with this particularly palatable sense of defeat to every moment. In isn't all that is there in these glances. There's a moment of attempted nostalgia, that turns to this despair, which makes this despair all the more torturous as Nighy presents a man who cannot even rely on what he has done for his life for any comfort. When his son and the son's wife return home, Mr. Williams tells them nothing, and Nighy earns this choice in his performance by bluntly presenting a man who has just had nothing. Nighy's work is vacant in this way in that he shows a man who cannot attach himself to anything that would provide a man who had lived a better life at this moment, Nighy shows the man reaching out yet failing. In turn, Nighy shows this troubled husk who is almost transparent even when contemplating death.
Now if one were to go back and read my review of Shimura, it would appear to be that I am hitting some similar points, however, if I'm comparing Nighy favorably, that must only be seen as the highest compliment. However, this is a very different performance via the change in the setting and this is dealing with death as an English bureaucrat rather than a Japanese bureaucrat. Where we see this divergence particularly as Mr. Williams approaches a salacious Novelist (Tom Burke), for help to "live" before his death. What Nighy excels with here is bringing this proper English manner to what should be an extremely emotional situation. As Nighy delivers his initial request to speak to the man, mentions his upcoming demise, noting a potential thought of suicide, all with this proper reserve. This is not a critique, but rather a praise, as Nighy in this shows the strange sort of way Mr. Williams is maintaining himself as a proper gentleman even as his world has been shattered. Nighy's performances often have a comical nature to them in some regard, even Davy Jones, and we get that here in a way that feels wholly natural to the character and only amplifies the film. There as there is something funny in the way Nighy brings up all these traumatic thoughts with the same quiet calm, as per fitting a stiff upper lip, but shows it as a man almost struggling with a certain awareness of the act. When Mr. Williams continues to show his savings to "live" with, which the Novelist asks him politely to properly hide, Nighy presents a man attempting though kind of failing to make this request to get this man to show him how to live. Again it is a little silly, yet wholly convincing, while also being very sad as Nighy brings an awkwardness to the moment as he shows a visible effort in the man attempting to force himself to be more than what he has been in this moment. Nighy manages to be amusing in this unorthodox way, however, that only reveals more the desperation in Williams to try to break his reserve on life while also failing to do so.
The novelist nonetheless attempts to show this man late in life a good time, at least in the way the novelist would see it, that is going to bars, gambling, and seeing a striptease. Nighy's performance in this scene is Mr. Williams attempting to do this but not quite being able to figure it out in a way. At each different place, Nighy brings a sense of discovery, however not as a man learning something new but rather kind of a child lost in a forest that is in some ways scary. There is a pressure within Nighy's expression of someone trying hard to figure this out, to find joy in it, but can't quite seem to grasp it in the right way. He shows Mr. Williams still very much who we have to see him be as his physical manner is still so internalized so tight in Nighy's performance and the man is trying to have fun, to live, yet isn't able to. This is most summarized within one bar where there is a piano and Mr. Williams a song of his youth "The Rowan Tree". Nighy's singing performance here is so essential to the character's entire journey, and this is a potent moment, a potent moment however defined by pain. Nighy begins with this force within the song and really a great deal of desperation. Nighy shows a man trying to recapture something, but not at all successfully doing so. Instead, he shows an attempt to do so in his delivery that isn't filled with joy, rather it is filled with pain, and his expression is of a man still suffering, still filled with so much anxiety. I love the final moment of the song here where Nighy shows the darkness that seems to fill Mr. Williams's mind until he just gives up at this point of just failure and seems to represent so much more than just not quite getting through this song here. We see this though as the failure of this entire endeavor, as Mr. Williams is fundamentally still trying to live and in no way doing so.
Mr. Williams's second avenue comes unexpectedly as he runs into Miss Harris, who has left the office permanently, unlike Mr. Williams who just hasn't returned there since his diagnosis. Wood's performance as Miss Harris seemingly offers the proper antidote to Mr. Williams's state, as she is a ball of energy and excited to see her old boss. Nighy's pitch-perfect in his initial reaction which is with the intrigue of the young woman, not a hint of illicit lust, rather just a curiosity in her spirit. Every question Mr. Williams initially asks her Nighy brings within it genuine intrigue, and in it, brings just a hint more life to his voice and his whole manner, though just a hint. Over lunch, Miss Harris shares with Mr. Williams her nicknames, not particularly flattering, for each of the men at the office. Although Nighy expresses a naturally good-natured laugh there is something different when Miss Harris comes to Mr. Williams's nickname, which for her was "Mr. Zombie". Nighy's reaction to this information is exceptional. That is the way he conveys the moment of surprise, a bit of sadness, but also a sense of bemusement in about a second. With that though Nighy also expresses Williams finally coming to some terms with himself and breaking his reserve just a bit more. Nighy eking out this bit of joy in his interaction with the optimistic Miss Harris. Nighy looks at her continually with that keen sense of interest though, as though he is looking for something that is deeper than that something fundamental. Mr. Williams returns again to Miss Harris however, who is a little less inclined towards the appearance, though Nighy is so wonderful in being so disarming by implementing that Nighy charm at the perfect moment. In expressing Mr. Williams finding himself just a bit more which says so much with so little, but also convincing that Miss Harris would go join him to see a film because there is such an earnest sweetness in the request in the way that Nighy makes it.
In the following sequence, we see a reversal though as Miss Harris becomes more hesitant while Nighy shows that Mr. Williams is finally enjoying life a bit more as he spends time with her. Nighy being quite moving by we the viewer can see the simple precious fun that Mr. Williams is having playing just a claw drop game with her, and reveals it as a break out from the "Mr. Zombie" he had been. When Miss Harris finally politely puts a stop to it, this is what forces Mr. Williams to bluntly state his situation. Nighy's articulation of this is even a bit different though as he grants a sense of perspective now in the examination of it and the attempt to find some meaning in life. When he asks Miss Harris her "secret" in being so joyful, which she has none, Nighy's asking of it is heartbreaking because of the intense sincerity of the request. His remark once wanting to be gentlemen as his old dream, Nighy speaks in a mix of hopelessness but also dream. It is painful but there is now a hint of a sense of the passion that once defined the man. Nighy in his eyes is that of a man looking for some kind of truth and just was attempting to find it in this young woman, just to show him the way. Although there isn't some clear explanation by Miss Harris to solve things for him, Nighy's reactions though convey the insight in a roundabout way. Nighy quietly creates this revelation within the man who comes into the next day to the office with purpose. Nighy is outstanding in this scene just by the way his physical manner has changed, to now walking with purpose, moving as someone outwardly who knows exactly where they are going, and really a man who is alive more than anything. What makes it so potent, even though it is a relatively short scene, is that Nighy has earned this transition we've seen every step of the way from the lonely husk just lost in the world, now as a man who knows where he is going, however, that is both in terms of his mortality, but also in his intention to live.
This film maintains Kurosawa's masterstroke of the jump in time as we arrive at Mr. Willliams's funeral, having died, however in the reception we learned he successfully created the children's playground which had been petitioned and ignored previously. We are left with his former associates trying to figure out the changes in Mr. Williams as he attempted to make this one pivotal change. In each now flashback, Nighy continues the brief idea we had gotten of the man who no longer was dying at his desk, but now living in action by trying to make genuine change. We see in each instance a different setback that Mr. Williams now faces. Nighy's presence is perfect here, he doesn't go into fully confident Nighy, he goes into fully confident Mr. Williams. This is still a proper gentleman however now Nighy emphasizes that in a way where that means something, something good. Nighy speaks with a respectful but oh so now forceful manner as he states clearly his need for each department to do their job to make the park happen. When there is a setback, even a potentially vexing one, Nighy's expression is with this grace and kindness that defines him. I love a moment of reassuring the women who had made the petition, as Nighy is now the perfect gentleman in his quiet encouraging words that he infuses with such a natural passion and a sense of a man living his best life, even when dealing with frustration. When we see Mr. Williams admiring the park actually happening, even in ill health, the sense of pride is beaming from Nighy and the man who had seemed so little, now stands so big, even when forced to sit. Nighy shows that even when decaying in body, the man stands so tall in spirit and realizes the state so naturally, and so poignantly. All these scenes are brief, yet Nighy makes an impact with each to show Mr. Williams as a changed man, a change he has earned so remarkably. Of course, all this seems but a warm-up to Nighy's final scene in the film, which I'll admit put me right on the edge of tears (which as noted previously is always a great accomplishment by a performer for me). That is Mr. Williams near his final moment as he swings within his completed park, and sings "The Rowan Tree" once again. Nighy though now brimming with joy and a sense of satisfaction in his eyes. His singing is now a celebration of his living, and a man truly experiencing what it means to be alive in the purest of turns. I felt chills through every note of the song, as Nighy's work at the moment is absolutely devastating, however, it is also so beautifully inspiring. Nighy's work doesn't wallow in despair, nor is it a simple jaunt to happiness. He shows the struggle of a man searching for purpose, and the great satisfaction in being able to find it. This is a masterful turn by Bill Nighy as he expresses his pit of sorrow so viscerally however that in turn only makes his as tangible journey to jubilation all the more impactful. And a journey I shan't soon forget.
