I just saw an astonishing film: "A Single Man", directed by Tom Ford (yes, of Gucci fame) and starring Colin Firth and Julianne Moore. It's based on Christopher Isherwood's novel, about one day in the life of a bereaved man in 1962.
I can't say enough about Colin Firth's performance. I couldn't take my eyes off him; he expresses so much with his face. It's 1962, he's lost his partner (Matthew Goode), and can hardly tell a soul. Partly because of the time, and partly because he's a Brit who's perfectly mannered and creased.
The production is almost unbearably beautiful, with music to match. No doubt it will be criticized for being "too perfect", too much like a fashion magazine spread, but I didn't find it distracting. Rather, it added to the loss and longing. Even the saturation of color changed, depending on the protagonist's mood.
Important bits of youth and beauty intrude on his sadness, especially a student played by Nicholas Hoult, whose almost-directness is alarming.
I'm sure I'll be thinking of this film for some time to come. In fact, I think I'll see it again.