I think this is the most moving, heartbreaking film I’ve ever seen.

It’s not perfect by any means, but the performances of Alan Rickman as a man trying to overcome his own traumas when yet another tragedy hits, and the brilliant Sigourney Weaver as an autistic woman unable to truly deal with tragedy at all, made this absolutely… Absolutely.

It’s Weaver’s character that really makes this for me, despite the focus being on Rickman. I was just torn apart by this woman giggling at ‘sparklies’ as someone tries to explain that something horrible has happened – it’s not that Linda doesn’t understand, she just can’t connect with the emotion. And maybe that’s better, at least in some ways: wouldn’t the world be better if we could all find complete joy in lying in the snow, bouncing on a trampoline, or watching lights twinkle?