The Unwritten Rule of Runtime
In the world of mainstream movies, there’s an invisible timer ticking. For decades, the sweet spot has been somewhere between 90 and 120 minutes. It’s a commercial calculation: theaters can schedule more
daily screenings, marketing is simpler, and it’s assumed that the modern audience, with its fractured attention span, won't tolerate much more. Anything pushing past the two-and-a-half-hour mark is often reserved for universe-ending superhero sagas or sweeping historical epics. The thinking is simple: if you’re going to ask for three hours of someone’s life, you’d better give them a spectacle. But a standout film at the 2026 London Film Festival is quietly proving that emotional scale, not just explosive action, can justify a marathon viewing experience.
An Intimate, Three-Hour Epic
Enter 'All of a Sudden', the latest feature from acclaimed Japanese director Ryusuke Hamaguchi, known for his Oscar-winning 'Drive My Car'. Screening at the festival, the film clocks in at over three hours and defies every expectation for a movie that long. It isn’t a war story or a sprawling fantasy. Instead, it’s an intensely focused, dialogue-heavy drama about the profound connection between two women: a Parisian nursing home director and a terminally ill Japanese playwright. A review from the festival notes that the film dedicates huge chunks of its runtime to quiet, intimate moments, including a 20-minute sequence where the leads discuss anti-capitalist theory with a whiteboard. It’s the kind of decision that, on paper, sounds like a recipe for a restless audience. But Hamaguchi is making a different kind of bet.
Earning Every Single Minute
The magic of 'All of a Sudden' is that it uses its extended runtime not for spectacle, but for immersion. Hamaguchi’s style is patient, allowing characters and relationships to develop with a depth that a conventional two-hour film could never achieve. The director is modeling an 'alternative, enriching way of making movies', according to one critic. By refusing to rush, the film allows the audience to live inside its world, feeling the weight of every conversation and the truth of every emotion. The initial slowness, the long stretches of dialogue, aren't filler; they are the foundation. The film builds its power gradually, asking the audience for trust. According to one festival review, while it takes a while to warm to, the cumulative effect is what turns the film from 'bleak to beautiful'.
How to Win the Room Slowly
The gamble pays off. Instead of fidgeting, critics report being utterly won over. The film's emotional climax, when it arrives, hits 'all of a sudden', delivering a poignant understanding of what it means to be alive. It’s a deeply human experience that justifies its length by making the audience feel they’ve earned the conclusion alongside the characters. This success speaks to a growing appetite, especially among festival-goers, for more demanding cinema. In an age of 30-second videos and endless scrolling, the communal act of sinking into a long, thoughtful story in a dark theater feels like a radical act of focus. 'All of a Sudden' isn't just a long movie; it’s an argument that some stories are too important to be rushed, and that an engaged audience is willing to go on the journey, no matter how long it takes.
