Chad Hartigan/Mattson Tomlin's Alzheimer's-like pandemic love story, LITTLE FISH, opens

Initially the specifics of "forgetting" -- the pandemic that grounds and provides the plot of LITTLE FISH -- are so detailed and heartbreaking that the movie very quickly pulls you into its dark, sad realm. 

The Alzheimer's-like condition that appears to be affecting the entire human race is certainly different from and finally more deadly than even our current Covid strains so far seem to be, but there's enough immediate recognition to make this new little film more than resonate properly and efficiently.

The manner in which this "forgetting" is of a differing speed and intensity for various people gives the movie added heft, as does its well-chosen -- but, then, not made full use of -- cast.  The ways that animals, dogs in particular, figure into things is equally heart-rending. 

As directed by Chad Hartigan (shown at left), with a screenplay by Mattson Tomlin (from a short story by Aja Gabel), the film proves so quickly and thoroughly involving that the fact it does not eventually hold on to our involvement seems very nearly as sad as the film itself. 

Little Fish involves the fate of humanity via the lives of two couples/four friends -- the lesser important pair played well, if too briefly, by Soko and Raúl Castillo -- in which the male of the species becomes infected faster and initially more heavily than the female. 

The major couple is played by Olivia Cooke (above, right, and below) and Jack O'Connell (above, left, and two photos down), two actors I hold in very high esteem: O'Connell for Starred Up and Godless; Cooke for everything from Bates Motel and Vanity Fair to Thoroughbreds. If you have never seen this remarkable actress in The Limehouse Golem, playing everything from a teenage music hall performer to an abused wife to a... well, you've just got to view this terrific Victorian thriller.

Though Cooke and O'Connell pull you in, once the film is well underway, they're not given enough genuine specifics and interesting details to work with properly, so soon this tale of love and impending loss begins to grow more standard and sappy. 

How the "forgetting" can suddenly happen is brought to fine life (a bus driver suddenly stops the bus, gets off, and begins to walk slowly in the opposite direction, leaving his passengers befuddled and stranded. (Earlier we've seen the remains of an airplane in which this kind of behavior led to something much more horrifying.)  The details of love, caring and loss, however, are finally not given as stringent a workout.

At one point we learn that, in place of a wedding ring, the couple purchased that titular "little fish," and we see them inside the aquarium (which we return to a couple times more in flashback), but aside from that, we learn nothing more about that fish, what happened to it, or even what it actually meant -- on any level save the "Let's replace a ring with a fish!" explanation. So this simply becomes another generic, Oh-isn't-that-cute! moment in this protracted love-and-loss story. As, unfortunately, do so many of the flashbacks we continue to experience of happier times.

At the finale we at least get a (maybe) surprise regarding the time frame we're actually in, and that is appreciated. More than anything else, however, this movie reminded me of a far better future-time, pandemic-set film, Perfect Sense, directed by David Mackenzie and released almost a decade ago by the same studio, IFC Films, in which the lovers -- played by Eva Green and Ewan McGregor -- as does all of humanity, slowly lose each of the five senses. Much more specific and fascinating in its detailing of character, event and what love means in the face of all this, Perfect Sense is the film you should see -- even if Little Fish is more current and may seem timely just now.

Running 101 minutes, the movie opens in theaters virtual (and maybe some brick-and-mortar) this Friday, February 5, as well as via VOD. Click here for more information.