Drew Edelstein’s review published on Letterboxd:
I'm afraid of growing old.
Partway through the movie, a character loses hearing in one ear. It's a moment that struck a deep chord in me - there is no overt drama that arises from it, and it is understated even so far as a horror reveal goes. It is simply the byproduct of growing older - the body deteriorates, and sensation is lost, one of countless parts that will inevitably fail as our cells struggle to persist when the years crawl ever onwards.
I am losing my hearing in this same way, bit by bit, second by second, until my ears will become solely decorative parts of me.
It's just part of growing older.
It is looking in the mirror and not recognizing the man I have become, not comprehending that the face I carry and the space I occupy is me. It's in wondering where the time is gone, already feeling struck by nostalgia as life hurtles by faster than I can comprehend. Days feel like weeks in the moment and like a half-forgotten memory but only a day later, as if my life carries less value with every further second I exist, simply because the novelty has begun to wear off.
I ache now - my legs, my back, my skull, my heart. I exist in retrograde, processing the world in increasingly accelerated speed while feeling as if every second shaves itself a little closer to nothingness.
What other parts of me will falter - how else will I decline?
I have qualms with Old, some variations of the same boring complaints about plot and acting that anyone reading this has doubtlessly been inundated with by this point. Old is more than that though, it is more than what the base and crude reduction of a work of art into building blocks fit for toddlers to toss around that has become of film criticism.
Old is an abstraction of aging, of the anxieties of lurching forward throughout the fabric of time taking to extreme levels. It is as comical as it is terrifying, and so stunningly potent and emotive in turns I could never have anticipated. There is tenderness, there is care, and perhaps most importantly, there is the understanding that this is all natural - if not on that beach, then in every speck of land I will walk on until I breathe my last breath.
I will only grow older. I will only become less of myself, as my cells scream out in agony as the years grow on.
But I don't want to view aging as agony.
I want to appreciate the moments I have with the people I care for, to make the most of my time, to find the best of the world. I want to be able to look back on the life I lived and to know I lived it right - spending my time with people I care for, and growing older side by side with the one I love.
Aging is only a nightmare if we let ourselves see it that way. I want to see it for what it truly is - natural, inevitable, and beautiful in it's own right.
And I want to make every second count.