A slow-paced, realist drama about one man’s personal struggles, Michel Franco’s “Chronic” is at first glance reminiscent of a fellow film in competition at this year’s Cannes Film Festival, “La loi du marché” (“The Measure of a Man”). But whereas that film’s portrayal of a man in financial crisis readily translates into a broader, allegorical critique of Europe’s economic woes, “Chronic” is an intimate, focused film content to merely explore in depth one man’s process of grief.

The film is propelled by a nuanced and delicate performance from lead actor Tim Roth (“Reservoir Dogs”), who fills every shot with a silent but powerful sense of profound melancholy. His character, David, is a nurse who cares for terminally ill patients, and much of the film passes in contemplative silence—Franco is content to fill the screen with long, almost torturous shots of David cleaning and bathing his patients. It is captivating to watch Roth in this role, as his character demonstrates unwavering patience and tenderness throughout the film—displayed, for example, one scene in which he cleans excrement off of a patient’s buttocks.

The actors who play Roth’s three patients in the film—who also correspond to each of the story’s three acts—deserve accolades as well. From Sarah (Rachel Pickup) to John (Michael Cristofer) to Martha (Robin Bartlett), each conveys a tragic sense of fragility and vulnerability, especially through the intense physicality of their acting. The script, also penned by Franco, is well-structured—the passing of each of David’s patients represents a figurative passing for David through his grief over a past personal tragedy. Franco gradually reveals the details of this event, which is only hinted at through David’s obsessive and almost pathological dependency on the patients he cares for. He stays extra overnight shifts and brings them presents on birthdays—but it’s clear that David’s need to connect with his patients is a projection of his own emotions. When Sarah passes, he tells a couple at a bar that his wife has just died of AIDS; when the bed-ridden John mentions his former career as an architect, David poses as one at a bookstore and purchases his patient reading material on the subject.

The film’s lack of score further accentuates the sensitive, dialogue-less moments shared between David and his patients. Although he is more awkward and reserved in his interactions with other people—including his ex-wife and daughter—he seems only able to find emotional catharsis through his patients. Multiple scenes show David running in place on a treadmill, a metaphorical representation of how grief has rendered his life emotionally stagnant. Franco suggests a departure from this static existence in the film’s shocking and violent final scene, which leaves the viewer room for contemplation—but this sudden spike in intensity is jarring after almost 90 deliberate minutes of understated emotion. But even through this chaos, “Chronic” is a moving portrait of grief.