Three Goodbyes is the kind of film that lingers long after the credits roll. It’s a tender exploration of human fragility, and a cinematic invitation to live fully — to fly, even when it’s terrifying, and to hold tight to the fleeting beauty of life while we still can.

“Well, pigeon, for those like you, for those like us, life is only a beautiful accident. Fly high, very high. Don’t give a damn about what people think, because life isn’t blood, it isn’t scars. I you truly want to live, love even if you’re afraid of not being loved. And look after people. Even if sometimes it’ll make you suffer. And don’t hurt yourself, because life will take care of that. But the most important thing is that tomorrow there’ll be a new dawn and a new sunset, with or without you. And now fly.”

Based on Michela Murgia’s semi-autobiographical bestselling novel of the same name, Isabel Coixet’s Three Goodbyes (Tre ciotole) had its World Premiere at the Toronto International Film Festival on September 8. Coixet adapts Murgia’s story with a lot of sensitivity, capturing the quiet rhythms of ordinary life while exploring love, loss, and the fragility of life.

The film follows Marta (Alba Rohrwacher) and her partner Antonio (Elio Germano), a couple living in Rome. After what appears to be a seemingly minor argument and years spent together, they separate. Marta seems detached from life, having lost her spark, while Antonio reproaches her for refusing to step outside her comfort zone — a mindset that no longer aligns with his own. 

A separation is never easy. For days, even weeks or months, you can feel like you’re caught in a void, spiralling — nothing makes sense anymore. You spend your days crying, sleeping, barely eating. And it hurts. But in Marta’s case, her loss of appetite and pain turn out to be something far more serious than heartbreak.

What seems like a slow-burning film about relationships turns out to be much more than that: a meditation on life and death, and ultimately a love letter to existence itself and the fleeting nature of it all. Shot on 35mm by cinematographer Guido Michelotti, the film radiates warmth and melancholy. Every frame captures both the intimacy of Marta’s solitude and the vibrancy of Rome that continues to move around her. Michelotti’s cinematography not only captures the city like a living postcard but mirrors Marta’s inner state, shifting from the streets to muted, claustrophobic interiors — a visual reflection of the film’s exploration of life, mortality, and the spaces in between.

Three Goodbyes evokes the quiet poetry of everyday life; the light, the stillness, the way time seems to stretch and collapse all at once. Watching it, I couldn’t help but wish I could fly back to Italy right at this moment, just to wander those same sun-drenched streets where grief and beauty coexist so effortlessly. The film’s deliberate pace allows the emotions to breathe, letting audiences sink into the quiet despair and fleeting joys of Marta and Antonio’s lives.

I ended up being incredibly moved by it — much more than I expected when it began. Like many others, death is my biggest (and most irrational) fear. If I think about it too much, I start to feel like I’m suffocating — which is ironic when you think about it, because suffocating would mean dying. So many thoughts, so many emotions spiral through my mind (even writing these lines right now brings tears to my eyes).

There’s something deeply terrifying about deat, not only because of its unpredictability, and the idea that one moment you’re here and the next you’re gone, but because of what it represents. Deep down, I think it’s the fear of not being able to accomplish everything I want to, even though I know I probably never will during this short passage on Earth —it’s the fear of not truly living life to the fullest. I don’t want to leave with regrets. I don’t want any “what ifs,” and I’m sure I’m not alone.

To me, Three Goodbyes is a reminder that life is both painful and beautiful, but that it is always worth living — fully, honestly, and without delay. We have to start living now, not tomorrow, not next week, but in this very moment, while we still have the chance, because we can never know what tomorrow will bring. It reminds us to embrace joy when it appears, to face grief when it comes, and to treasure the small moments that make up a life — the conversations, the laughter, the quiet pauses, the love we give and receive. Above all, it’s a call to truly be present, to live deliberately, and to hold nothing back, because each day is both a gift and a mystery.

Ultimately, Three Goodbyes is the kind of film that lingers long after the credits roll. It’s a tender exploration of human fragility, and a cinematic invitation to live fully — to fly, even when it’s terrifying, and to hold tight to the fleeting beauty of life while we still can.

Grade: B+

Oscar Prospects:
Likely: None
Should be Considered: None

Release Date: TBD
Where to Watch: TBD