Miss You, Love You Review

Faced with planning her late husband’s funeral alone, a widow is forced to accept help from her estranged son’s assistant. Who he sends in his stead.

Jim Rash’s exploration of grief and loss may seem a little out there or extreme, but it is surprisingly true to life. Based on the writer/director’s own experiences. Including the time he spent with his mother in New Mexico (where the film is set), and bringing his sister’s assistant (who he didn’t know) home to help organise his father’s funeral, because his sister was unable to attend. Originally conceived as a play, Miss You, Love You retains that signature style. This beautiful house in New Mexico becomes a stage for Allison Janney and Andrew Rannells – and in some ways, a character – as the two leads muddle their way through a rather awkward situation. It is somehow sad and amusing at the same time, possibly even a little absurd. On top of the grief for her husband, Diane (Janney) is understandably hurt that her son couldn’t or wouldn’t be there to help her in such a time of need, and Jamie (Rannells) becomes almost a distraction. A kind of mystery for her to solve. After all, why is he there? Why would he accept such an assignment?

Needless to say; Janney and Rannells are phenomenal together. For the most part it’s just them on screen, locked in this civil yet confrontational back and forth. In many ways Diane is like a wounded animal, in that she’s frequently on the attack. She can be ferocious, and Jamie has to try to be supportive, even though he’s in the firing line. It doesn’t help that Jamie is unreservedly taken aback by the nuances of life in New Mexico – much like some of the friends and neighbours that also irritate Diane. No doubt many of us have been in similar positions, forced to remain cordial whilst playing the role of verbal punching bag. Which is probably why it’s so funny to watch Jamie suffer through it. But as funny as it is, it’s also very genuine. The emotions that are flying around are all too real. So you never find yourself disliking Diane, despite her prickly demeanour. If anything, it makes you sympathise with her more, as Janney shows with such a beautifully raw and unguarded performance how much this woman is suffering.

As the movie goes on, however, we learn through Diane’s constant interrogation of Jamie that she isn’t the only one. In fact, not only is the man sent by her son to help her struggling with his own sense of loss, so is her quirky – and mildly annoying – neighbour, Judith (Bonnie Hunt). For Judith it ties back to those nuances of New Mexico living (not sure the NM tourist board will thank Rash on that one), and Hunt delivers a performance that is somehow annoying and funny, making Diane all the more relatable. After all, who hasn’t had a neighbour like Judith? But unsurprisingly, it’s the times when Diane and Jamie are alone together that prove most affecting. As they get to know each other over desert flora and funeral preparations, Diane is able to pick away at Jamie’s armour somewhat. With Rannells perfectly portraying the reluctance Jamie feels about revealing his feelings. But Diane’s drive to unravel this mystery that is Jamie ultimately results in the unleashing of powerful feelings, on both sides. The two actors making it all feel so incredibly real. They draw you into that moment, like no other point in the movie, so that you can almost feel their characters’ pain, and the catharsis that comes from such expression.