I'm Still Here

I'm Still Here, the feature film debut from director Kris Smith that draws on his experiences with terminal illness, is as poignant and punchy as they come. Matthew (portrayed by Dan Burman), a young man with his whole life ahead of him suddenly discovers that he has terminal cancer - thus begins a roller-coaster ride of pain and heartache, from reconciling with family to falling in love at the wrong time.

Burman's sterling no holds barred performance married with Smith's raw, almost documentary- like filmmaking (thanks also to the excellent cinematography by DOP Joshua Carver) give I'm Still Here its emotional core – since the film seems so natural it makes it all the more relatable, and that it makes the drama all the more heartbreaking (oh yes, you certainly will need tissues). In all the right places, Burman channels melancholy, wit and pure agony on his journey through all the stages of grief portrayed in the film that will certainly pull at your heartstrings.

His co-stars are equally as empathic, particularly Lucy Russell as Rebecca and Chris Szuca as Ben who deliver fresh, engaging performances. Whilst the focus of Matthew's attention is on his love interest Olivia (Rebecca Bailey), the more meaningful relationships are the ones he forms in his community; particularly in the case of fellow cancer sufferer Rebecca and the estranged married couple Ben and Sophie. Matthew's realization of his larger role in the world around him will certainly have audiences feeling warm, even if his kindness is shrouded in tragedy.

The film's somber score by Asche & Spencer, whose credits include Machine Gun Preacher and Monster's Ball, reinforces the moody tone well as Matthew struggles with day-to-day life, knowing his time is growing shorter by the minute.

I'm Still Here is a dose of fresh, no-holds-barred filmmaking that will break your heart in two with its powerful drama. Smith has made his cinematic mark, as his beautiful debut shows strong signs of great promise in his future – he's most certainly a director to watch.

Having lived through a family experience of terminal illness, I was not looking forward to watching this film. Fiction often seems trite and forced when you've actually dealt with the reality, particularly a devastating one. However, 'I'm Still Here' (2013) neatly sidesteps all the tiresome 'Hollywood' grandstanding that is synonymous with the subject matter and delivers instead a truthful and telling depiction of the struggles of Matt, a young man struck down by a lingering and potentially fatal disease.

The strength and authenticity of the film lies in its grounded approach; a willingness to embrace the mundane and common place aspects of the situation. There are no silly 'bucket list' activities; just regular trips to the hospital, awkward 'self-help' group sessions and a few snatched moments of happiness as the clock begins running out. In less adroit hands, this could all have been a little on the dull side but writer-director Kris Smith and a largely unknown cast pull the audience in slowly but surely and, by the climax, you are fully invested in both story and characters.

It always seems a little unfair to single out individual performances from a fine ensemble but it's very hard not to highlight a few. Obviously, a lot of the heavy lifting falls to Dan Burman as Matt and he proves more than capable of shouldering the responsibility. Interactions with his family are painfully convincing and, although the psychology of a broken home leading to emotional detachment is hardly new territory, Burman really nails it, never mining a scene for audience sympathy or making his emotional journey too great to strain credibility. Joanna Pope is also note perfect as his fussy mother and Jack Beresford scores in an all too-brief appearance as younger brother, Rob. Elsewhere, Lucy Collins is truly outstanding as a charismatic hospital patient (we'd be talking awards if this was Hollywood) and Marie Wilson inhabits the character of the downtrodden woman next door with an authenticity that informs her every gesture and expression. The music soundtrack is excellent and, just as importantly, is used very judiciously. The design of the title sequence is also extremely impressive.

But it's the naturalistic writing and atmosphere that allows story and cast the room to really breathe and fuels the subtleties of this quietly affecting drama. Particularly notable is the way that Matt finds a kind of closure; not through tearful reconciliations with his estranged family as you might expect but through his kindness to strangers. This involves the warring couple next door, who he has only previously known by hearing their arguments coming through the wall (a brilliant touch). Also assisting is a non-linear structure, which allows for some telling moments without compromising the coherence of the story. There are a few rough edges and the final act may seem a superfluous addition to some but still packs a heavy emotional punch. A vibrant and very moving piece of cinema that never descends into easy sentiment and remains a very positive and life- affirming experience, despite the theme.

An incredibly dull film and just lacked any sense of filmmaking prowess or competence

OK I have to say something straight away. Paused it an hour and a half in while writing this - the film is beautifully shot and superbly acted. If there was ever a way to explore the less comfortable side of healthy young adult desire -- to explore the world, to test boundaries, to take big risks, to live a little dangerously -- without the usual fear of worst-case scenarios or squeamishness, I'M STILL HERE is it, if only because the presence of terminal illness makes such risks seem like a quaint and necessary part of having lived. The movie shows a confrontational and sometimes dark but often humorous and wildly tender look at what it means to be alive, and, ultimately, what it means to die, all through the eyes of a young man and those closest to him.

Matt's quest to fulfil his bucket list -- at first filled with wild and predictable thrills, but eventually shifting to the sweeter, quiet moments only nature and family provide -- offers an excellent source of discussion with our generation about the things that matter most in life at a time when imagining past the next hour is often difficult. It's a brutally direct film that's hard to watch because it never pulls its punches about dying, but this makes it especially beautiful -- not to mention a near-constant tearjerker, even when it's upbeat. Full box of tissue required.

I was lucky enough to witness this feature on the Norwich University of the Arts MA degree showing about a week ago, and I was incredibly impressed by it's sheer amount of detail, it's storytelling and great portrayal of death told on screen. I'd like to think of the film as a journey of self-discovery, finding out who you are and what you mean to people. It sets out such a horrific way of showing terminal illnesses in the UK and that's something not many people are daring to express at the moment, such as Matt's violent coughing, the cancer patients' ill look in bed and the icey-cold look of hospitals. I myself took the film very personal due to the fact that a loved one passed away to cancer and this film really captured my emotions in my own experiences in life, dealing with knowing that someone I cared about is going to die in only a matter of weeks. I think people can identify and relate to that very well and people's responses will be great. What "I'm Still Here" really did was a huge achievement in my eyes was that I actually cared about the characters, every single one of them. It was because they were simply realistic and convincing in their performances and you can easily sympathise with them (including the ones that make mistakes such as Ben) and I seriously didn't want any of this to go away during the two hours of watching this. But like always, all good things might come to an end. Not only is it a story based on life and death, but it's a story on redemption. To change the errors of your ways because life is too short and we should make everything matter. Leaving a mark in the world in which the characters live in was integral to the plot and Matt sure does that in the finale. All I can say is watch it and enjoy it for what it is. As much as it is depressing, you will never see another film quite like this. Effective and enjoyable till the very end.