Working from the transcript of a conversation lost for 45 years, Ira Sachs crafts an unexpectedly riveting portrait of artistic life in 1970s New York. Shot on 16mm and steeped in lived-in period detail, the film transforms an hour-long chat into something quietly spellbinding.
In December 1974, photographer Peter Hujar (Ben Whishaw) visits his friend, writer Linda Rosenkrantz (Rebecca Hall), who asks him to recount the previous 24 hours of his life. As she records and gently prods for clarity, Peter details encounters with fellow artists, a portrait session with Allen Ginsberg, restless walks across the Lower East Side, and his constant tug-of-war between work and sleep. Famous names drift through the conversation, but the film is less about celebrity than the texture of a day lived among creatives.
Whishaw brings a warm, unforced intimacy to Peter’s recollections, while Hall’s curiosity gives their dynamic an engaging spark. Their friendship, built on easy chatter and thoughtful silences, anchors the film with emotional truth. Sachs enriches their exchange with subtle shifts in light, music and movement. It’s a delicate, beautifully observed meditation on creativity and the quiet richness of everyday life.