More Than Ever
Directed by Emily Atef
Written by Emily Atef, Lars Hubrich
Starring: Vicky Krieps, Gaspard Ulliel, Bjørn Flobert
Unrarted
Runtime: 2 hours, 3 minutes
At the Metrograph Theater, NYC, October 6-12

by Gary M. Kramer, Staff Writer

More Than Ever is a thoughtful examination of how a young French couple grapples with life when one has a terminal illness. Hélène (Vicky Krieps) is sick with idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis and may not have long to live. Her husband, Matthieu (the late Gaspard Ulliel), is of course, distraught, but he has a glimmer of hope when a doctor says that Hélène could have a double lung transplant—if they can find an appropriate donor.

However, Hélène is skeptical of the risks. She finds more comfort in the blog posts made by a man named Mister. After contacting him, she decides to visit Mister in Norway. Her trip upsets Matthieu, not just because Hélène wants to go alone—she insists she needs space—but because he is concerned about being far away in her condition. What if a donor becomes available? (He also thinks Hélène will be staying in a hotel.) 

More Than Ever sensitively shows how Hélène’s decisions enable her to confront her fears about death and find a sense of peace. The film is very intimate. In the early scenes in France, there is a tenderness between Hélène and Matthieu, who smoke weed and canoodle in bed in a sweet moment. But Hélène is restless and uncomfortable, and hates being pitied. Matthieu tells a friend he misses Hélène, as if she already gone—despite spending more time with her since her diagnosis. A point made in the film, about how the living can’t understand the dying, rings true here. 

When Hélène travels to Norway, she encounters the gorgeous mountains, crystalline waters, and clean air. It is a tonic for her and the audience. Mister, who is actually named Bent (Bjørn Flobert), is not quite what Hélène imagined from their exchanges, but he is a kind man who gives her food and a bed (albeit an uncomfortable one) and provides good company for her to process her emotions. 

Hélène spends her days resting and hiking—she has to climb a hill to get cell phone reception to call Matthieu—and she does suffer some episodes that stress her lungs. The environment, however, is healing; Hélène says that while may be sick, being in Norway makes her feel good.

More Than Ever lets viewers appreciate Hélène’s journey as she makes a decision about how she wants to live and die. Matthieu arrives at one point, to be with Hélène and perhaps lure her back home, and their scenes together are charged with the pain each character feels. A fight where Hélène and Matthieu talk about how hurt they are by their situation captures the emotional dynamics of someone who is dying and their caregiver who loves them. It Is a very powerful moment. 

Thankfully, despite the topic, the film never descends into weepy melodrama. A scene of Hélène and Matthieu having sex, possibly for the last time, expresses how much they truly love one another. And a scene where Matthieu punches Bent conveys his absolute rage at his situation. Ulliel, in one of his final screen roles, is magnetic and poignant here.

But it is Vicky Kriep’s delicate performance as a woman who needs to find her own way of facing death that makes More Than Ever so affecting. She is heartbreaking as Hélène makes hard choices that impact her and Matthieu, and she is tough as she struggles to manage her condition on her terms. 

Despite a few excessively arty moments featuring Hélène floating in water, and seeing birds in the sky, this is a compelling and moving drama about how people cope differently with the inevitability of death.