Eternity : Austin Film Festival Review

We all have things we love to do, and if someone asked you which one you could do forever, you might have a quick answer. But forever is a long time — eternity, in fact — and that’s exactly what David Freyne’s new film asks you to consider. Eternity isn’t just about the thing you’d want to do forever; it’s about the person you’d want to spend forever with.

Larry and Joan have been married for sixty-five happy years. They have a family, a history, and a deep affection that’s weathered everything life has thrown at them. On their way to a family gender reveal party, the unthinkable happens: Larry chokes on a pretzel and wakes up as a younger version of himself (Miles Teller), disoriented and alone on a train that’s clearly not of this world.

It turns out Larry has died and arrived at a kind of transit hub for souls. There, he meets his assigned “AC,” Anna (Da’Vine Joy Randolph), who explains that he has seven days to choose where — and how — he wants to spend eternity. Larry, however, knows his beloved Joan could arrive any day due to her illness. When he finally makes his choice, he spots a younger version of Joan (Elizabeth Olsen) and chases after her, refusing to move on without her.

The twist? Larry isn’t the only one waiting for Joan. Her first husband, Luke (Callum Turner) — who died decades earlier in the war — has also been waiting sixty-seven years to be reunited. What follows is a funny, heartfelt, and surprisingly layered story about love, memory, and the choices that echo beyond a lifetime.

Written by Patrick Cunnane and David Freyne, Eternity imagines the afterlife with whimsy and charm. There’s a Studio 54 world, a “cigarette world” proudly boasting that “they can’t kill you twice,” and even a “no men” world (which, fittingly, is full). Yet Freyne isn’t interested in theological answers. His film is less about what happens after death and more about what endures when time itself no longer matters.

The humor sparkles, thanks largely to the two ACs, played by John Early and the ever-reliable Randolph, who steal nearly every scene they’re in. But beneath the wit is a quietly profound emotional core. Freyne balances absurdity with tenderness, finding truth in the ridiculous and heart in the cosmic.

Visually, Eternity is gorgeous — colorful, imaginative, and intimate all at once. The production design gives each world a distinct personality while grounding the story in emotional realism.

The performances elevate it further. Olsen is the film’s heart and soul, grounding its metaphysical premise with warmth and vulnerability. Teller and Turner are perfect foils — one embodying stability, the other lost youth — and their chemistry with Olsen makes Joan’s impossible choice feel painfully real.

Eternity feels like a breath of fresh air — original, funny, and emotionally resonant. In a year dominated by noisy blockbusters, Freyne’s film reminds us that the biggest stories aren’t always the loudest ones. It’s a love story about what comes after love — and how, even beyond time, some hearts just can’t let go.