MA 15+, 119 minutes

4 Stars

Review by © Jane Freebury

Living in an inner-city squat with a boisterous dad too busy larking around and having fun for adult responsibilities, and a half-brother who hangs out with a street gang, is not the best of starts. Not for anyone, let alone a reserved, quiet 12-year-old girl.

Although her mother is not far away, she might as well be absent, as she struggles to take care of other younger children, and has a brute of a new live-in boyfriend. On the brink of adolescence, Bailey (Nykiya Adams) needs love and understanding, support and friendship. But who will provide it for her?

Whether it’s her family life or her honey-brown skin that sets her apart, the film is not that explicit. Bailey seems to prefer her own company anyway, connecting with the land, the sky and the sea of the natural world on the edge of town where she lives. She is fortunate on that count.

With a smart phone as her constant companion, she makes sense of the goings-on around her. After recording what she has seen and been a part of, she can take the video clip away and go over it again in private. Like the clip of two of her peers walking past with a skip in their step, and moving on. Or the close-up of an inquisitive seagull, a familiar presence in her home by sea.

An unexpected shout-out to the benefits of digital technology

Here, as in all of the films that I know by writer-director Andrea Arnold, there is a compelling sense of place, from the walled spaces covered in graffiti to the open fields outside town. It’s interesting that this sensitive portrait of a teenager hungry for connection suggests that a digital tool can be a salve to vulnerability and real-world social isolation. A shout-out to the benefits of digital technology that I wasn’t anticipating.

This intimate portrait of lonely adolescence is captured by cinematographer Robbie Ryan, a favourite of indie filmmakers, who has helmed some top movies by the likes of Yorgos Lanthimos, Ken Loach and Nick Cave. He was behind the camera for Andrea Arnold’s previous prize-winning work like Fish Tank and American Honey.

After she is witness to a vicious assault, Bailey runs away and sleeps in a field overnight. Grazing horses greet her in the early morning while she gets a close-up of a furry muzzle and captures the long grasses shuddering in the breeze. Then she realises she isn’t alone. A strange man in a box-pleat skirt who speaks funny is addressing her. What to make of him? Later on, she spies him watching over her during the night from his perch on a nearby building. Bird (Franz Rogowski) will often be found on a ledge, cocking his head to one side, scanning his surrounds, on the lookout.

What to make of the stranger in a box-pleat skirt who speaks funny 

Bird’s arrival has coincided with new arrangements at home. Her father, Bug, played with signature restless energy by Irish actor Barry Keoghan, is bristling with schemes for making money, that involve toad slime, and who knows what. In addition to his gold chain, he has an intriguing collection of insect tattoos, creeping and crawling over his neck, arms and back.

A new girlfriend is moving in, with a little moppet of her own, and they are to be married within the week. Kayleigh (Frankie Box) produces a pink leopard-print catsuit that she would like Bailey to wear as one of the bridesmaids. No, Bailey won’t have any of that, and gets her lovely corkscrew curls cut off too, to make the point.

By his very nature, Keoghan cannot help but steal the show, even though his role as a well-meaning if hopeless dad involves less screen time than the other characters. Oh, the magic of charisma. It is hard not to want to jump on board his scooter too, and fly through the centre of town, scot-free. And it is hard not to wonder where Keoghan is when he’s not in frame. He performs another solo dance, just like in Saltburn, though clothed this time. And it is hard to condemn a character who is loving, with such a lively sense of fun.

Despite difficult and weighty subjects like underage and neglectful parenting that we have here, the point is that there is love and fun and a space for hope, while the wonders of nature offer the possibility of renewal.

First published in the Canberra Times on 21 February 2025.  Jane’s reviews are also published on Rotten Tomatoes