Empire of Light (2022) Review

It might be a bit overkill for the Academy to have awarded Olivia Colman three Oscar nominations in four years, but the multi-layered ball of repressed pride that Colman plays just might be the performance of the year.

The film is set in a theater in a small English town in 1981 and though it focuses on Olivia Colman’s character of Hilary, there’s a rich slice-of-life quality to it.

Sam Mendes has long had a knack of capturing the atmospheres of time and place: The suburban purgatory of American Beauty, the sepia-toned Depression-era Midwest of Road to Perdition, the hellish warscapes of Iraq in Jarhead and World War I in 1917.

At the same time, Mendes tries to equate a cinema in 1981 as the height of theater going, when he’s at least 40 years removed from the era of movie palaces and event screenings. Although it could be argued that Jaws and Star Wars might have jump-started a new weekened-centered craze of moviegoing, that’s not what’s really being portrayed (unless the original cut of Chariots of Fire had space lasers or sharks I am unaware of). There’s a curious vagueness here from a director who’s generally so exacting with his settings. It’s also hard to get a grip on exactly what kind of an English town this is: Vaguely somewhere that’s not London is as much as I can gather.

The crust of Hilary’s arc is that it throws her into two relationships: A numbing dalliance with her cheating boss (Colin Firth) and a May-December romance (Michael Ward as Stephen) that’s as dreamy as…