Departures (Neil Ely / Lloyd Eyre-Morgan, 2025)

Lloyd Eyre-Morgan and Neil Ely's largely Amsterdam-set Departures, which screened at last month's BFI Flare, is not for the easily offended.  This horribly watchable film presents an unflinching look at toxic behaviour as it follows Benji, played by co-director Eyre-Morgan, who meets the conceited Jake (David Tag) in a departure lounge at Manchester airport.  Both men are heading to Amsterdam, and end up spending a chaotic few days together.  This trip proves to be the first of many, with Benji and Jake nipping off to the Netherlands on a regular basis, where their conduct sees them firmly adhere to the stereotype of Brits abroad.

But, at Jake's behest, contact between the two needs to be limited to these Dutch excursions, and radio silence fills the gaps between the pair's hedonism-filled jaunts.  Benji appears both baffled and rather unhappy with this arrangement, but goes along with it as he cherishes his time with Jake.  We have a pretty fair idea of where this is all heading, as the film opens in medias res with Jake berating Benji at what is quite clearly the terminus of their relationship.  But quite how they got to that point is the question on which Departures hinges, and we witness the frequently unpleasant events that have left Benji so broken.

Despite this grim journey, Ely and Eyre-Morgan's film is by no means without humour.  Yet it is slightly problematic that the controlling, manipulative Jake's almost invariably dreadful behaviour is often masked by comedy, which somewhat dilutes the impact of his deeds.  But weirdly, the film never feels atonal, and it's made with such spirit and energy that it is only upon stepping back that the viewer can see Jake's actions are far from amusing.  Departures is a highly immersive film, one whose raucous demeanour tends to distract from the insidious way in which Jake tightens his grip on the smitten Benji before casting him aside.

As Departures winds towards it conclusion, there are signs of green shoots of recovery for the traumatised Benji in the form of Kieran (Liam Boyle), a man who has recently grappled with his own demons yet cautiously looks to brighter days ahead.  Both Tag and Eyre-Morgan give brave, committed performances—the film really wouldn't work if they didn't go full bore—and they're ably backed by a fine supporting cast, of which Tyler Conti and Kerry Howard, as Benji's friend and Jake's aunt respectively, provide the most eye-catching turns.  As uncomfortable as it is compelling, Departures is a film destined for cult status.

Darren Arnold

Images: BFI

Hot Milk (Rebecca Lenkiewicz, 2025)

Hot Milk, the directorial debut of Ida screenwriter Rebecca Lenkiewicz, is a beguiling adaptation of Deborah Levy's eponymous Booker-shortlisted novel.  Lenkiewicz's film, which premiered at the Berlinale and was selected for last month's BFI Flare, examines the knotty relationship between Sofia (Emma Mackey) and her controlling single mother Rose (Fiona Shaw), who are staying in an apartment in the Spanish coastal city of Almeria.  But despite the sun-dappled locale, this is no holiday: Rose is receiving treatment from a local doctor, Gómez (Vincent Perez), for an undiagnosed condition that confines her to a wheelchair.  

As Sofia seeks some respite from her rather suffocating domestic situation, she encounters—and becomes enamoured with—flighty bohemian Ingrid (Vicky Krieps), yet this dalliance eventually proves as frustrating as the fraught relationship with her mother.  Sofia decides to mix things up by heading to Greece (which is in fact where the entire film was shot) to visit her father (Vangelis Mourikis), who now has a new family and is unable to provide much in the way of the fulfilment she so obviously craves.  In a development that underlines Rose's extremely manipulative nature, Sofia is abruptly recalled from her Greek sojourn.

Clearly, Rose is a very damaged individual, and it's implied that her symptoms are largely psychosomatic.  Yet Shaw's immense, nuanced performance leads us to both pity and scorn this troubled soul, who dismisses the incremental academic progress made by Sofia while simultaneously cherishing it as a means to infantilise her daughter, therefore preventing her from growing up and flying the nest.  For her part, Sofia—whose doctorate is currently on hold, at least partly because of Rose's treatment—alternates between dutifully caring for her mother and barely tolerating her endless, grating requests for suitable drinking water.

Mackey, hitherto best known for the Netflix series Sex Education, responds to the marker laid down by Shaw and delivers a turn to match that of her seasoned co-star, while Luxembourgish actress Krieps is good value in a rare supporting role.  Given that Levy's book is one in which much hinges on Sofia's interior life, translating it to the screen is no easy task.  When reviewing a title from last year's Flare—Orlando, My Political Biography—I wrote about the challenges of adapting such novels; as with that film, the haptic, hypnotic Hot Milk takes a sideways approach to adaptation, and the results are highly impressive.

Darren Arnold

Images: BFI

Brussels IFFF: Hello Stranger (Paul Raschid, 2024)

Hello Stranger, which will have its Belgian premiere on Saturday evening as part of this year's Brussels International Fantastic Film Festival, is a new psychological horror-thriller interactive film from Paul Raschid (The Complex, Five Dates, Ten Dates, The Gallery).  Coming to Valve's PC service Steam next month, Hello Stranger tells the chilling story of a man trapped in his smart home by a masked stranger who forces him to play three games to survive.  Hello Stranger boasts a cast including Sir Derek Jacobi, George Blagden, Danny Griffin, Christina Wolfe, Kulvinder Ghir, Laura Whitmore and Yasmin Finney.

The film centres on Cam, who conducts life exclusively from his smart home—work, shopping, entertainment and, most notably, socialising.  Cam interacts with strangers on the Hello Stranger platform, a randomised video chatting application.  Eventually, he encounters a masked stranger with an altered voice.  Unnerved, Cam leaves the call only to find the stranger has hacked his smart home and locked him in.  The stranger tells Cam that he must win three rounds of games, or it is ‘game over’.  Viewers must make decisions and play the three games for Cam to survive—but one wrong move could lead to a grisly end.

Paul Raschid wrote and directed Hello Stranger—which features over four hours of filmed content and 10 possible endings—and is one of the world’s most prolific interactive filmmakers.  Before focusing on interactive films, Raschid was a linear feature filmmaker; his most notable credit is as writer-director of sci-fi thriller White Chamber, for which Shauna Macdonald won Best Actress at BAFTA Scotland 2018.  It was released on Netflix following selection for 10 film festivals worldwide, including Brussels IFFF, Edinburgh IFF, BiFan (South Korea), FrightFest (London), Sitges IFFF, and Mumbai FF.

Source/images: Polymath PR

The Shrouds (David Cronenberg, 2024)

David Cronenberg's new film The Shrouds is a highly personal and strangely moving meditation on grief, love, and the double-edged sword that is technology.  Inspired by the 2017 death of the director's wife, Carolyn, the film follows Karsh (Vincent Cassel), a bereaved Toronto-based widower who invents an intricate camera system that allows people to observe their loved ones in the grave.  This unnerving innovation becomes both the centre of Karsh's funeral business and a marker of his monomaniacal desire to cling to the past, with his devotion to the dead recalling that of Julien in François Truffaut's The Green Room.

While Truffaut cast himself as the lead in that Henry James adaptation, Cronenberg, who has stepped in front of the camera on a number of occasions, stops short of such a move in The Shrouds—although he does goes as far as to furnish Cassel with a coiffure that bears an uncanny resemblance to the director's distinctive shock of white hair.  Cassel, collaborating with Cronenberg for the third time following the pair's work on A History of Violence and A Dangerous Method, makes a fine job of balancing cool detachment with simmering obsession, as Karsh is sucked into a world even darker than the one he signed up for.

Diane Kruger, who replaced Léa Seydoux just a month before filming commenced, is equally impressive in her triple role as Karsh's wife, sister in-law, and AI assistant, and Guy Pearce is very good value as a jittery IT whiz.  But when the film changes gear and moves into areas such as industrial espionage and corporate conspiracy, these admittedly fun elements prove slightly distracting.  Visually, The Shrouds is stunning, with cinematography (from Douglas Koch, returning from Cronenberg's previous feature Crimes of the Future) that frames characters in a way that underlines the crippling isolation that accompanies mourning.

David Cronenberg's calling card, body horror—an important, if sometimes overstated, aspect of his work—is present here, although it never overshadows the film's emotional core.  Given that the past year has seen The Substance comprehensively out-Cronenberg the Canadian auteur (at least superficially), it's refreshing to witness how latter-day Cronenberg only employs body horror to serve the narrative.  The Shrouds, which was originally envisaged as a Netflix series, is a richly compelling work, one that prompts viewers to carefully consider both the normative emotions of grief and technology's relationship with human values.

Darren Arnold

Images: Pyramide Films