Ira Sachs has long been a filmmaker more interested in emotional truth than conventional storytelling. His films often ask audiences to meet them on their own wavelength rather than the other way around, and The Man I Love continues that tradition. The problem is that, for much of its running time, it feels as though it’s waiting to discover its own purpose.
Set within New York’s experimental theatre scene during the AIDS crisis of the 1980s, the film follows Jimmy George (Rami Malek), a celebrated performer recovering from a serious HIV-related illness while attempting to mount what may be his final stage production. Around him orbit his devoted partner Dennis (Tom Sturridge), his concerned sister Brenda (Rebecca Hall), and an increasingly infatuated young neighbour, Vincent (Luther Ford), whose arrival unsettles an already fragile dynamic.
Sachs deliberately avoids obvious signposts, dropping viewers into Jimmy’s world with minimal context and trusting them to piece things together. While that ambiguity can be rewarding, it also leaves the opening stretch feeling frustratingly adrift. Characters drift in and out of scenes, motivations remain murky, and the film’s emotional core takes far longer than it should to reveal itself. Rather than intriguing, much of the first half feels distant and aimless.
Yet somewhere around the midpoint, The Man I Love finally settles into focus. As Jimmy’s health deteriorates and the realities of his condition become impossible to ignore, Sachs finds the emotional urgency that has been simmering beneath the surface. What initially feels meandering gradually transforms into a deeply melancholy portrait of an artist confronting mortality while desperately trying to remain present in his own life.
Malek is central to that shift. This is easily his most vulnerable work in years, stripping away any sense of performance to reveal a man simultaneously defiant, frightened and exhausted. His finest moment arrives during a pivotal opening-night performance sequence that is as devastating as it is unforgettable. Without resorting to sentimentality, Sachs captures something profoundly tragic: an artist realising that the thing he loves most may be slipping away from him. It’s a scene that lingers long after the credits roll.
Queer audiences, particularly those familiar with the cultural scars left by the AIDS epidemic, will likely connect more deeply with the film’s themes of chosen family, survival and grief. Sachs understands the tenderness that exists within queer relationships and communities, and some of the film’s most affecting moments emerge from simple acts of care and devotion rather than grand declarations.
Still, emotional payoff can only compensate for so much. The Man I Love ultimately asks for a considerable amount of patience before revealing what it’s truly about, and not everyone will be willing to wait. When it works, it is heartbreaking and deeply human. When it doesn’t, it feels frustratingly opaque.
Bleak, intimate and undeniably moving in its strongest moments, The Man I Love eventually earns its emotional impact. It just takes a little too long getting there.
TWO AND A HALF STARS (OUT OF FIVE)
The Man I Love is screening as part of this year’s Sydney Film Festival, running between June 3rd and 14th, 2026. For more information on session times and ticket sales, head to the official site here.
