Grief is one of those universal experiences that still manages to feel deeply personal. It shapes us, strips us bare, and sometimes even surprises us. Good Grief doesnāt just mourn the dead; it celebrates the complexity of life, love, and everything in between.
At the heart of Good Grief is Marc (Dan Levy), a man devastated by the sudden loss of his partner, Theo (Arnaud Valois). His grief is a raw, visceral presence that follows him like a shadow. Heās stuck, unable to move forward but unwilling to completely let go of the life he had with Theo. Enter his best friend Stuart (Himesh Patel), who is also no stranger to personal losses. The two men, though dealing with very different kinds of grief, find solace in each otherās company, their friendship becoming the foundation of the filmās emotional journey.
Good Grief doesnāt just explore sadness ā it excavates it, finding the beautiful, bittersweet moments in between.
As Marc grapples with Theoās absence, he crosses paths with Sophie (Ruth Negga), Theoās former lover, who brings her own tangled relationship with grief into the picture. Her presence stirs up feelings Marc thought heād buried, forcing him to confront both the beauty and the pain of loving someone who is no longer there. This dynamic creates an emotionally charged atmosphere, with Sophie acting as both a reminder of the past and a potential catalyst for Marcās healing. The introduction of Oliver (Luke Evans) as a potential new love interest complicates things further, making Marc question whether moving on with someone new means betraying the memory of the person he lost.
The film deftly balances these multiple layers of grief, never shying away from the emotional messiness that comes with loss. Levyās portrayal of Marc is beautifully vulnerable ā thereās a quiet desperation in his performance that feels painfully authentic. Watching him navigate through moments of numbness, anger, and fragile hope is like witnessing someone searching for light at the end of a very long tunnel.
What sets Good Grief apart from other films about loss is its distinctly Queer voice. The charactersā Queer identities arenāt central to the plot in a way that feels heavy-handed; instead, they exist naturally within the narrative, adding a rich layer of complexity to the relationships. Marcās grief, framed through the lens of Queer love and connection, feels refreshingly real, as the film explores the particularities of Queer grief ā the fear of being forgotten or erased, the pressure to “move on” when the world around you doesnāt understand the depth of your pain.
Visually, Good Grief is stunning. The cinematography uses tight, intimate shots to pull us into Marcās world, making us feel his isolation and pain in a way thatās almost tangible. The muted colour palette and use of natural lighting create a soft, melancholic atmosphere, one that mirrors the internal emotional turmoil of the characters. Thereās an almost theatrical quality to some of the more intimate scenes ā moments where the silence between characters speaks louder than any dialogue could. The director’s decision to allow these quiet, contemplative moments to breathe gives the film a sense of emotional weight that lingers.
Final Thoughts ā ā ā ā
Would I recommend Good Grief? Absolutely. This film is a heartfelt and poignant exploration of grief through a Queer lens. Itās tender, raw, and deeply moving, reminding us that grief is as much about remembering love as it is about letting go. In a world that demands we āmove on,ā Good Grief asks us to sit with our sadness a little longer ā and perhaps cherish it.
Available to watch on Netflix and other streaming services.
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