Nobody in the history of cinema has had more time-traveling husbands than Rachel McAdams. Four years after she starred in The Time Traveler’s Wife (2009) opposite Eric Bana, McAdams played Mary in About Time (2013). While the movie initially seems like a generic time-travel romance in which Tim Lake (Domhnall Gleeson) uses his family’s hereditary ability to woo the girl of his dreams, what unfolds is more a meditation on appreciating the finer things in life. The romance and time-traveling complications are there, along with some clever writing and charming chemistry, but About Time winds up far more philosophical than you might expect.
About Time is coming to Netflix on Sept. 1.
Written and directed by Richard Curtis (Love Actually, Notting Hill), About Time is structured around Domhnall Gleeson’s voiceover, not as a guide through the plot, but as something closer to a private journal. Tim doesn’t narrate like someone who knows how his story ends. He narrates like someone revisiting moments he didn’t fully understand at the time.
Gleeson’s delivery is key. His voice is warm, slightly hesitant, and unshowy, which makes the film’s big ideas feel intimate. When he talks about his family — especially his sister “Kit Kat” — there’s affection in the humorous ways he describes their quirks.
Even when the movie introduces its time-travel conceit, it does so casually. Tim’s father, played by Bill Nighy hamming it up with lots of charm, tells his son about their shared ability (which only the men of the family possess) without ever making it feel like a superpower. Instead, it’s a tool for introspection and being mindfully present in life. That philosophy becomes the focus of the entire story and the reason About Time ultimately has more to say about living in the present than it does about changing the past.
Tim’s inevitable meet-cute with McAdams’ Mary hits a snag when he accidentally erases it by time-traveling to help out his roommate. What follows could easily have played out like a breezy rom-com reset with a montage of retries until he gets it right again. Instead, About Time treats the moment with a subtle unease, like Tim’s slipped into the wrong timeline and has to desperately find his way back. The movie makes it clear that, even with infinite do-overs, reforging what was a natural first connection isn’t guaranteed and trying to control it too tightly risks breaking it altogether.
The power of Rachel McAdams
McAdams grounds About Time by not playing Mary as some sort of fantasy. It’s easy to imagine a version of this movie where she’s more of a manic pixie dream girl, full of quirky verve. Instead, McAdams’ performance is warm, relatable, and realistic. There are subtle differences in the way she interacts with Tim in their two meet-cutes. Where Tim is anxious in general, always worried about doing things “right.” He approaches love like a problem to be solved. McAdams gives Mary a quiet confidence and warmth, and the contrast really makes their chemistry work.
After Tim deftly maneuvers his way back into romance, About Time gently pivots to more mundane real world concerns. The story shifts its attention toward aging parents and missed afternoons. Time travel evolves from a useful tool into a lens for understanding loss.
The movie’s emotional core ultimately has little to do with romance at all and instead meditates on what it means to truly be present when you can live any moment over infinitely. It’s a quiet philosophy delivered without spectacle. But it’s also what gives About Time staying power almost 13 full years since its release.
About Time is coming to Netflix on Sept. 1.
