Who Directed Ways To Live Forever Movie And When Was It Released?

I’ve got a soft spot for films that tell something honest and small, and 'Ways to Live Forever' is one of those — it runs about 93 minutes (so roughly 1 hour 33 minutes). That’s the standard feature-length time you’ll see listed on most DVD boxes and streaming pages, and it’s tight enough that the storytelling feels focused without overstaying its welcome. In my experience that runtime makes the movie breeze by but still leave a lump in your throat; it concentrates on moments rather than stretching scenes for their own sake. If you’re planning a movie night, it’s great for an evening when you want something meaningful but not epic — you’ll have time for a chat afterward, or another short film if you’re feeling brave. Heads up: sometimes festival prints or TV edits can shave a few minutes or add tiny differences, so if you spot a listing that says 90 or 95 minutes, that’s likely why. If you want the definitive length for the version you’re about to watch, the streaming platform or the DVD/Blu-ray details will have the exact runtime, but 93 minutes is the usual figure people quote.

I still get a little choked up thinking about the music that threads through 'Ways to Live Forever'—it’s one of those gentle scores that carries the film more than it shouts. To me, the soundtrack is mostly an intimate, piano-led score with warm strings and subtle acoustic touches. It leans toward tender minimalism: motifs that repeat in slightly different arrangements so the music feels like a memory being remembered differently each time. There are also a few quiet contemporary songs layered in places where the film needs a human voice rather than an instrumental one, which helps ground the story in a modern, everyday feeling. If you want to actually listen to it, look for the film’s soundtrack or score on streaming services or check the film credits for the composer and track titles. When I first watched the movie late at night, the theme that plays during the quieter montage stuck with me for days—simple piano with an occasional cello line. Fans of emotional, restrained film scores (think soft piano pieces and unobtrusive string swells) will probably enjoy it. It's not bombastic; it lives in the small moments, and that’s what makes it linger with you long after the movie ends.

I still get a lump in my throat thinking about the ending of 'Ways to Live Forever'. Watching it on a gloomy Saturday with a mug of tea, I remember how the film doesn't go for a neat, comforting wrap-up — it goes for honesty. The story follows Sam as he catalogues life and death with curious, stubborn bravery, and the ending reflects that same honesty: it doesn’t pretend death is some solved puzzle, nor does it sentimentalize every moment. Instead, it gives space for grief, for small, awkward consolations, and for the way people keep living with someone’s memory. That felt truthful to me in a way that a tidy happy ending never would have been. Beyond the emotional gut-punch, the filmmakers seem to want the audience to sit with the consequences of Sam’s journey. His list, tapes, and observations don’t erase his illness, but they pass on something else — perspective, tiny acts of courage, and the idea that a life can be meaningful even if it’s short. The finale lets the viewers feel the loss while also showing the ripple effect: friends, family, and strangers learning from him. For me, that bittersweet closure was more satisfying; it honors the character’s curiosity and keeps the conversation going long after the credits roll.

I’ve always been the kind of person who will go down an internet rabbit hole to find where a film was actually shot, and 'Ways to Live Forever' was no exception. From what I dug up, the movie was filmed in the UK, with most of the on-location work done around England—think London and nearby southern counties rather than exotic overseas spots. The production leans heavily on real-world interiors (schools, family homes, and the medical settings you see on screen) to keep that grounded, slightly grainy feel the book’s fans expect. If you want the nitty-gritty, the best places to verify specific sites are the film’s IMDb filming-locations page and the British Film Institute’s database; they usually list towns, hospitals, and studios credited in the shoot. I also checked a couple of local press write-ups from the time of release that mention shoots in various English neighborhoods. For a treat, look for DVD extras or interviews—directors and location managers sometimes talk about why they picked a particular hospice or school building, and that gives you the vibe of the place much better than a bare list of names.

I still get a little teary thinking about how gentle 'Ways to Live Forever' is, and that gentleness is reflected in its ratings. In most places I've checked and in conversations with other parents, the film carries a PG tag — so parental guidance is suggested. The reason is obvious: it's a kid-centred story about a boy dealing with leukemia, mortality, and big emotions. There’s nothing graphic, but the themes are heavy for very young viewers and some scenes may make kids ask difficult questions. From my own experience watching it with younger cousins, PG felt right. It allowed for kids to see the story and engage with it, but I made sure an adult was in the room to pause and explain things when needed. If you’re looking at regional specifics, many listings and streaming platforms label it PG or the local equivalent, but it’s wise to check your country’s rating board if you need an exact certificate number. Ultimately, prepare for emotional content rather than scary visuals, and maybe have a box of tissues and a calm chat ready afterward.

I still get a little lump in my throat thinking about 'Ways to Live Forever' — the book felt like sitting in Sam's bedroom, reading his private diary, and the film feels like watching a memory stitched into images. When I read the book on a cramped train home years ago, the format grabbed me: short diary entries, lists (Sam's how-to’s and facts about death), and those offhand, painfully honest observations that only a diary can carry. The literary Sam is inward, curious, sometimes clinical about illness, and the book gives you time to live inside his wry, young mind. The movie, by necessity, externalizes a lot of that interior life. It trades pages of lists and tiny reflections for visual moments — faces, landscapes, gestures — and often uses voiceover or scenes to show what the diary tells. That makes the film more immediate and cinematic but also slightly less intimate in the way the book is: you see Sam in interactions more than you get his uninterrupted internal commentary. Some side conversations and smaller vignettes from the book are compressed or skipped, and a few events are rearranged so the film hits emotional beats more clearly for a two-hour runtime. The relationships feel amplified on screen — parents, friends, the adult world — because cinema needs to show connections rather than simply report them. If you love the raw, list-filled pace of personal journals, the book will feel richer; if you prefer visual storytelling and performances that make you feel present in the room, the film does that beautifully. For me, both work together — one feeds the imagination, the other gives those images a face — and I often reread passages after watching certain scenes to catch what was left between the lines.

Whenever I want to find where to watch something like 'Ways to Live Forever', I usually start with a quick search on JustWatch or Reelgood—those sites are lifesavers because they tell you (pretty reliably) which services in your country are streaming, renting, or selling the title. I’ve done that late at night when I couldn’t sleep and found a movie available to rent for a couple of dollars instead of hunting through a dozen apps. If you don’t see it on subscription platforms, it’s worth checking the major digital storefronts: Amazon Prime Video (buy/rent), Apple iTunes/Apple TV, Google Play/YouTube Movies, and Vudu. These often have older or smaller films available for digital purchase or temporary rental. I’ve rented low-budget British films this way more times than I can count. Also check library services like Kanopy or Hoopla—my local library has surprised me with films that aren’t on mainstream platforms, and you only need a library card. Region matters a lot, so if a direct search comes up empty, try looking at region-specific platforms. In the UK you might see it pop up on BritBox or a channel’s on-demand service occasionally; in other countries it could be on a different streamer. If you want a physical option, used DVDs on sites like eBay or your local secondhand shop can be a charm, especially for movies that drift in and out of digital catalogs. Bottom line: start with JustWatch, then check the big digital stores and library apps, and you’ll probably find a legal way to watch without too much fuss.

I still get a little giddy thinking about rediscovering quiet films on DVD, and 'Ways to Live Forever' is one of those that feels like a private little treasure. When I looked into whether there are deleted scenes, I dug through the version I own and a few online product listings. My copy didn’t have a labelled "deleted scenes" section — it had a short making-of feature and some cast interviews instead, which is pretty common for smaller, character-driven movies like this one. From what I’ve seen across different editions, there aren’t a lot of publicly circulated deleted scenes for 'Ways to Live Forever'. That doesn’t mean nothing was cut in production — every film trims material — but for indie-ish, low-budget adaptations, the extras tend to be slim. If there are deleted moments, they’re usually tucked into press kits, the director’s archive, or sometimes shown at festivals and never released commercially. The kinds of scenes you might expect would be small extensions of hospital or family moments, or bits that lean more into the diary-style reflections from the book. If you’re hunting for extras, check the special features listing on DVD/Blu-ray product pages, look on Blu-ray.com and IMDb for release notes, and search YouTube for clips labelled as deleted scenes. Also try reaching out to fan communities — someone might’ve recorded Q&A footage where a scene was screened. I’d love a deluxe edition someday with a director’s commentary, because those little leftover scenes can be oddly illuminating.