The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby: Her (2014)

What makes The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby: Her special is how it turns a familiar romantic premise into something bracingly intimate: a portrait of grief that doesn’t perform for you, it simply sits beside you. Jessica Chastain is extraordinary as Eleanor, giving you a woman who’s raw, intelligent, and quietly ferocious, while the film’s close, woman-centered perspective makes every conversation and silence feel like it has weight. Ned Benson keeps the tone tender but unsentimental, letting small moments—classrooms, city streets, half-finished thoughts—carry the ache of a love trying to reassemble itself. It’s not for viewers looking for easy catharsis or tidy answers, but if you want an emotionally honest drama that respects your intelligence, this one lingers.

The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby: Her is aiming for an intimate, grief-soaked portrait of a woman trying to rebuild herself after an unthinkable loss, and it does capture that raw, drifting headspace with real sincerity. The problem is the film’s structure can feel like you’re reading half the letters in a correspondence: scenes land emotionally, but the missing context leaves motivations fuzzy and the drama oddly fragmented. If you need a romance that progresses cleanly or a story that answers its own questions, this may feel incomplete rather than intriguingly elliptical. Still, Jessica Chastain is quietly magnetic, and Viola Davis brings a steady warmth that gives the film some much-needed grounding when the narrative starts to slip through your fingers.