Sometimes Always Never

From the opening wide angle shot of Alan (Bill Nighy) standing on an empty beach under an open umbrella we are treated to a film of visual delight, dry wit and bitter sweet pathos. Alan’s son Michael stormed out of the family home when he was 19, made furious by a game of scrabble, and hasn’t been seen since. Alan’s life is consumed by his search for Michael. He says he doesn’t want to die until he has solved the problem. He roams over the country looking for places where Michael might be and can’t go to bed without a walk beforehand in search of the missing man. His remaining son Peter (Sam Riley), now married to Sue (Alice Lowe) with a son, Jack (Louis Healy), has given up on his father yet tolerates him when he turns at his home and has to share Jack’s bunk bed because there is no other room in the house.

You might think that this is a film of intense tragedy with deep feelings and ardent longing taking over all the characters. On the contrary, I think only in this country, Britain, would such a film be made where tragedy is treated as an extended joke. Rather in the manner of Harold Pinter, the script is littered with dry, witty little non-sequiturs, strange obsessions and the loving survey of the most banal objects that make up the texture of daily life.

This film is driven by, of all things, scrabble. Scrabble was the cause of Michael storming out of his home, scrabble provides clues as to where Michael might be (by tell-tale behaviour on online scrabble sites), the fact that Alan has an extra “Z” for making the word “jazz”, which might provide a link to Michael. That Michael always played to the other person – not the board – could provide clues as to where Michael is on scrabble sites.

You might think that Alan is a tragic obsessive but not at all. This passion for scrabble gives him an intense of observation which leads to him labelling everything, an understanding of the small nuances of life and even to being a very considerate lover in bed – so says Margaret (Jenny Agutter), with whom he briefly links up. He notices that Jack (Louis Healy), with his sloppy old beanie hat, dishevelled jacket and uninteresting trousers, is cutting no ice with Rachel (Alice-Grace Gregoire), a girl at the local bus stop, whom he deeply fancies. So Alan, his grandad, a tailor by trade, whisks him off to his shop, gets him a nice suit (he advises him about doing up the buttons – the titular “sometimes always never” is the rule for a line of three jacket buttons from the top downwards) and cuts his hair. In no time at Rachel is all eyes for Jack and snuggles up to him at the bus stop.

The delight of this film is its concentration on small details. The eating up of meals on a tray, shots of people talking to one another, banal transistors and clocks, the dampness of the windows in buses, the emphasis on large spaces in the country, emphasising the great gap of Michael’s absence in Alan’s life. It is all very English and in that, very true. Life’s tragedies are not swelling choruses in operas. They are objects left in the corner when someone leaves forever (Michael’s guitar with his name labelled on the case), exasperated looks from family members, the silliness of storming out of the house over a game of scrabble, the ticking of clocks, wide open landscapes. The film captures the obsessiveness of grief, the need to keep re-connecting with the loved one, the going-over of details, the constant remembering of habits.

Yet this film is not sad at all. It is very amusing at times because people are funny and deserve compassion. Peter decides to resolve Alan’s constant searching. I won’t tell you how and I won’t tell you if Michael is ever found. The only other point that needs to be mentioned is the appearance of Alexei Sayle (Bill) in a short cameo performance, which is not particularly necessary but is entertaining in its way. Alexei Sayle is incapable of being boring.

This film will live in your mind for a long time. It is a jewel of British filmmaking and should not be missed. Sometimes Always Never is out in cinemas on Friday, June 14th. On VoD on Monday, October 14th.

The Limehouse Golem

Move back to the late 19th century, take a little of Jack the Ripper, throw in a dash of Sherlock Holmes, squeeze in some theatre and cabaret acts and then add a final touch of feminism. The outcome is a very British film, with a top-drawer cast including Bill Nighy, Olivia Cook and Douglas Booth. The American-born director Juan Carlos Medina is probably the most un-British thing about The Limehouse Golem, which was penned by Jane Goldman. She is mostly known for co-writing the screenplays of Matthew Vaughn’s Stardust (2007) and X-Men: First Class (2011).

Elizabeth (Olivia Cooke) is accused of poisoning her husband, and she is awaiting a trial which is almost certain to culminate in her execution in the gallows. She is a music hall star from a humble background and a dysfunctional family. Her formidable mother was very abusive, as was the husband whom she’s accused of killing. Rookie detective Kildare is assigned with her case, and he soon begin to develop some fondness for the mysterious woman. He suspects that Elizabeth’s husband was in reality a sadistic serial killer nicknamed The Golem. He also thinks that the oppressed woman may not have poisoned him at all, or that perhaps she killed him in act of desperation (in some sort of Victorian Ruth Ellis act).

The fact that the screenplay was written by a woman is by no means irrelevant. Elizabeth is both ambiguous and empowered. She’s very comfortable and energetic on stage, and mostly sullen and introvert elsewhere. She seems to accept her likely death sentence with a stoic attitude, but there a certain cunningness in her apparent frailty suggesting that there’s more under the surface. Kildare is charmed and fascinated by this fine and cryptic female.

A number of twists drive the narrative of this very British horror movie, and it worth sticking to the end for a very nice surprise. And there’s just about enough gore (including eviscerated corpses very much à la Jack the Ripper) to shock you, without becoming exploitative. The grotesque murders are indeed fetishised, but this is not a bad taste movie. It’s more a fantasy horror flick instead. It’s not a perfect one, though. It sometimes feels a little self-conceited, too epic and grandiose, plus a tad too long at nearly two hours. To boot, the dark studio settings give the movie a TV series feeling, and perhaps it would be more appropriate indeed if this was made for a more mainstream television audience.

The Limehouse Golem was out in cinemas across the UK on Friday, September 1st. In late December, it was made available on all major VoD platforms.