By Emily Draper
The night of my gran’s funeral, when we could think of nothing more to say, we sat down and watched her favourite movie: Meet Me in St. Louis.
Movies can provide two things in the face of death. The first: simple escapism into another world that feels less heavy to hold. The second: the chance to see our own grief and loss held to the light, to remind us of our inevitable humanness, that others are holding their own strange and heavy world, too. The best movies provide a bit of both.
Pig (2021)
A man on a search for his missing truffle pig. That’s the basic premise of this Sarnoski drama, starring Nicolas Cage. It’s a relatively simple premise, and you’d be forgiven for thinking it would likely follow a somewhat generic revenge plot, with a typically flamboyant Cage performance at the helm.
In fact, this Oregonian slow burner has more in common with Manchester by the Sea than John Wick. Cage’s quiet, introverted woodsman is a departure from his shoutier youth – here he is at his most soulful, a picture of a man lost deep in the annals of grief.
Pig feigns left, then goes right, forgoing Hollywood revenge tropes to instead become a story of coming to terms with death and loss and forgiveness and hope.
It’s a beautiful exploration of what it is to have loved and lost, and in its own confounding, oddly sweet way, a reminder of how the living must carry on, carved into a new shape by the loss we must carry with us. I recommend this movie to everyone, but especially those grappling with grief.
Coco (2017)
If you’re still one of the few writing off animated movies as films for kids, Coco will be the one to change your mind. Visually stunning and musically outstanding, Pixar’s 19th feature film is guaranteed to leave even the staunchest of cynics misty-eyed by the closing credits.
At its heart, Coco is a story about borders – the borders we place between family members, the borders we erect within ourselves, and the strange, somewhat permeable border between life and death. The story takes place on Mexico’s Dia de Los Muertos, where young Miguel accidentally gets transported to the land of the dead.
Much of Coco’s emotional impact hinges on the many reprises of a single song. The lyrics are simple. Remember me / Though I have to say goodbye / Remember me. Could there be better lyrics that get to the pointy part of losing someone you love? Of the precariousness of life, or the rallying cry of memory?
Enjoy Coco with the little ones in your life, perhaps as an invitation to have a bigger conversation around the big topics of life and death, beginnings and endings. Or enjoy it alone, and issue that invitation to yourself.
The Farewell (2019)
Our beliefs and behaviour around death and dying are immensely cultural in origin – so how do we navigate them when our identity straddles multiple cultures?
This is the dilemma facing The Farewell’s Chinese-American Billi (Awkwafina) when she is told of her grandmother’s terminal illness, and that her family want to hide the diagnosis from the elderly woman in question.
The competing pressures of culture, family and identity bring to the screen the inevitable tension and conflict, but also love, joy and humour – because real life is rarely one without the other.
While the opening titles tells us this is a film “based on an actual lie,” The Farewell is one of the most honest movies about illness and grief in recent years.
What Dreams May Come (1998)
It’s been years since I saw What Dreams May Come, and yet sometimes out of nowhere, I find myself thinking about it.
Based on the line from Hamlet, "what dreams may come when we shuffle off this mortal coil", this film stars Robin Williams as a man seeking to find his late wife in the afterlife.
Slow and meandering, with gorgeous visuals and world-building, What Dreams May Come is hard to pin down, which is perhaps part of the reason for the mixed reception at its release. It’s an unusual role for Williams, but I think one of his best, and certainly most underrated. Watch it and see if the stunning dreamscapes don’t find a space inside your brain for the long-term, as they’ve done mine.
Big Fish (2003)
If we tell ourselves stories in order to live, then perhaps we tell others our stories in order to live on.
Big Fish is a dreamy, larger-than-life story about stories, following Will (Ewan McGregor) as he attempts to separate fact from fiction in his late father’s tall tales. He encounters a witch (Helena Bonham Carter), a giant, and the love of his life along the way.
While Big Fish isn't without its flaws, including a plot that seems, at times, unsure of its destination, the performances are genuine and heartwarming. If nothing else, Tim Burton's mastery of spectacle and richly imagined landscapes makes for a beautiful escape.
Notable Mention: Death at a Funeral (2007)
There’s nothing better than a classic British comedy to remind us that we’re all just monkeys on a rock and nothing matters (and that’s okay).
If you’re in need of something that takes end-of-life a little more lightly, you can’t go past Death at a Funeral. It’s silly and farcical while also managing to be touching and sincere. If you haven’t seen an angry Peter Dinklage launch himself out of a coffin, now’s the time.
(For some inexplicable reason, there’s a 2010 US-remake of this movie and perhaps even more inexplicably, Peter Dinklage plays the same character in both. For many reasons, I’d strongly recommend the British version.)