It’s not hard to spend a few hours watching Florence Pugh and Andrew Garfield fall in love. In “We live in time” Filmmaker John Crowley takes audiences up close and personal with this photogenic British couple through the ups and downs of a relationship in their 30s.

At some point, everyone starts thinking about the idea that there isn’t enough time to do everything you want. But it seems to be hitting many of us hard in this difficult, beautiful third decade. Of course there is that cruel biological clock, but careers, homes and families are also getting older. Throw in a cancer diagnosis and the timer becomes more and more aggressive.

While we and Tobias (Garfield) and Almut (Pugh) actually live in time, as we are repeatedly reminded of in large and small ways – clocks and stopwatches are literally and metaphorically omnipresent – the film floats above it. The narrative jumps back and forth through time like a scattered memory as we piece together these lives that intersect in elaborate, mystical, and darkly comedic ways: Almut hits Tobias with her car. Their first conversation takes place in the hallway of a hospital, with bright neon lights and bruises and cuts all over their bodies. But he’s so impressed by this beautiful woman in front of him that he hardly seems to care.

I suppose this could be considered a Lubitschian “meet-cute,” even if it consciously pushes the boundaries of our understanding of this romance trope. Before the attack, Tobias was in a hotel trying to sign divorce papers. His pens ran out of ink and the pencils kept breaking. In a fit of madness, he goes to a corner store, wearing only his bathrobe, to buy more. As he goes back, he drops something on the street and there’s a bang: a new relationship is born. It’s the ultimate metaphor for the out-of-body vulnerability required to fall in love.

There are some moments of mania that await both of them, especially when a baby isn’t ready to be born – until it is and they’re nowhere near the hospital. I don’t want to ruin it, but it’s one of the funnier, more emotional, and more memorable birth scenes I’ve ever seen on screen. It’s one of those scenes where you don’t expect tears, but there they are.

Speaking of tears, there is a certain expectation or assumption that a film will be liked “We live in time” will leave you a wreck, sobbing with all your body. That wasn’t my experience. Tear count isn’t exactly a science or even a reliable measure of quality: there have been really bad movies that had that effect and great ones that didn’t. But I wondered why, especially considering how Crowley blew it away “Brooklyn.”

Nick Payne’s script also leaves a lot to be desired, especially when it comes to the development of Almut. At 34, she’s already a Michelin-starred chef and has a lifetime of sporting success behind her, which we hear about. And yet, at the beginning of her relationship with Tobias, she turns around when he asks her if she wants children. Now, there are bad ways to approach this topic with women, but her reaction felt unnatural, especially considering that it’s completely reasonable for serious adults to start this conversation early. Instead, he’s the one who comes back and apologizes. Their choices are a little strange throughout and will likely inspire some post-screening conversation.

The eventual child is also little more than a pretty prop with no spark or personality. We never see a tantrum or a need or desire from her that doesn’t keep the adult story going. It’s just a shorthand for what’s left if Almut doesn’t win the battle against cancer.

The main reason to see “We Live In Time,” however, is not the promise of crying or the reality of having a small child, but the calm and poignant performances of Pugh and Garfield, who are exactly the kind of nice guys seem to fit what we want. Now we all celebrate thanks Adam Brody’s hot rabbi. It’s charming and silly and sometimes gross – other people’s relationships always are – and in the end it works extremely well thanks to them and their wonderful chemistry.

“We Live in Time,” an A24 release Friday in New York and Los Angeles and nationwide Oct. 18, is rated R by the Motion Picture Association for “language, sexuality and nudity.” Running time: 107 minutes. Three out of four stars.