These are the first fifteen words we shall hear when we are dead: “Ladies and gentlemen, we have now reached the Junction. Mind your step. Disorientation is normal.” When Joan arrives in the bardo (the other side, known as the “Junction”), she find that her first husband, Luke, who died during the Korean War, has been waiting for her for sixty-seven years. The problem is that for sixty-five of those years Joan has been married to second-husband Larry. And just to complicate matters, Larry is also waiting for her, never having met Luke, who is now working as a bartender in the Junction. And so “Eternity” is set up as a standard rom-com, by and large, involving Joan, played by Elizabeth Olsen, and her choice between the two husbands, Luke, played by Callum Turner, and Larry, played by Miles Teller.
The imaginative notion of “Eternity” (A24), showing now at the Montrose Playhouse, is the addition of science fiction. Upon arrival, an afterlife coordinator (AC) meets the just-dead, whose physical bodies have been conveniently restored to the time when the living individual was at their happiest. The job of the AC is to rummage around for a suitable place to spend eternity; the catch being that there is “no switching; no visiting; it’s forever. It’s like a one-and-done thing.” During the “junction”-period the deceased is housed in one of those nice hotels with an internal atrium; on the ground floor, in the lobby, is a non-stop Expo, with trade booths which feature advertising for the possible eternities, complete with salespeople and glossy brochures. There is a creative, fun choice: “Medical World,” “Spy World,” “Yacht World,” “Celebrity World,” “Workout World,” “Food World,” ”Cowboy World,” “Wellness World,” “Capitalist World,” “Museum World,” “Man-Free World.”
Much of the humour is paced impeccably and on the evening I attended there was a great deal of appreciative laughter. For instance, as the ACs for Larry and Joan realise how challenging it will be for Joan to choose between her husbands, a delightful scene quickly develops in which the various participants talk over each other: “The second husband…” “I prefer ‘current’…” “Larry…” “Is my husband…” “One of them.” And finally, “I have complete faith that you will choose the right eternity and the right person to spend it with.” Larry’s AC is played with passion and enthusiasm by Da’Vine Joy Randolph, who pithily arrives at a conclusion—“Luke is hot. His eyes are bluer than the ocean”—and in order to be successful Larry will need her coaching. “There’s nothing more powerful than emotional blackmail,” she posits. “Let’s go with that.”
There’s no question that the set designers for the atrium and Expo have done a creative job, although it’s never really clear why we seem to be firmly in the nineteen-seventies. The props in the room (telephone with depressible numbers, television with grainy advertisements for the various eternities, such as for “Nineteen-Thirties Germany. Now with 100% Less Nazis.”) are great—fitting perfectly with the just-so costumes. When Larry takes Joan to the beach, he is dressed in a yellow-striped shirt, and she in a red bathing costume under a yellow towelling robe. Inside the atrium we occasionally hear an announcer, the kind that featured in the “Airport” film series of that era, making us aware that, say, “Remember, geopolitical differences no longer matter. You are dead.” Or, at one point, “Plane crash incoming!”
Each of the eternities has a neatly kept building known simply as “ARCHIVES,” with an attendant who sets expectations before the deceased enters. “We take no responsibility for emotional trauma,” he says. “Happy reliving.” The deceased walk down a hallway of small windows, dressed like theatre-stage sets, in each of which moments of their lives are depicted. As Luke and Joan walk down their hallway, the scene of their goodbye just before Luke embarks on the boat that will take him to his death is surprisingly moving, given that we know that there won’t be a Hollywood ending for him. Another good character is one of Joan’s neighbours, Karen, played by Olga Merediz, who has appeared as an older form of herself just when she has admitted to being a lesbian. “The worst thing in the world has already happened to you,” she tells Joan, unarguably. Larry also seeks Karen’s advice: “Why did she (Joan) fall in love with me?” he asks Karen. She replies, “You made your life about making her happy.”
The strength of “Eternity” is the variety of well-played, humorous characters; this avoids too much screen time for Elizabeth Olsen, who is overfond of shedding tears on demand. The characters interact well without her and appear at key moments to keep up momentum and maintain engagement; the two-by-two structure (two ACs and two husbands) works proficiently; Luke’s early death is artfully used to develop the comedy. “This one’s for Korea,” Larry says at one point, raising a toast to Luke. “Not enough films made about it. Except MASH.” “What’s MASH?“ Luke shoots back. But this is one of those films which feels about thirty minutes too long. The scenes which Joan spends alone with either Luke or Larry tend to the sappy—“I don’t care where we end up, just as long as we’re together,” say, or, “He wasn’t some childhood crush. He was my husband,” or, “I wanted to make everything okay.” And there is so much use of the word “perfect” that I wondered whether the Hollywood studios involved were aspiring to define themselves.
“I’m dead and I haven’t thought once about the meaning of life,” one of the men says, just before Joan’s decision is proclaimed. “My client has reached her decision,” her AC announces, beaming from ear to ear. “How lucky am I to have had you both,” Joan says, before revealing which of her husbands has won.
Adam Poole
7th November 2025
If you are interested in viewing this screening, please book your tickets here
