An alienated teenager, saddened that he has moved away from London, must find a way to deal with a dark family secret.
Credits: TheMovieDb.
Film Cast:
- Tom: Freddie Cunliffe
- Jessie: Lara Belmont
- Dad: Ray Winstone
- Mum: Tilda Swinton
- Lucy: Kate Ashfield
- Carol: Aisling O’Sullivan
- Baby Alice: Megan Thorp
- Nick: Colin Farrell
- Barman: Kim Wall
- Nurse: Annabelle Apsion
Film Crew:
- Director: Tim Roth
- Novel: Alexander Stuart
- Producer: Dixie Linder
- Producer: Sarah Radclyffe
- Executive Producer: Eric Abraham
- Associate Producer: Steve Butterworth
- Original Music Composer: Simon Boswell
- Director of Photography: Seamus McGarvey
- Editor: Trevor Waite
- Casting: Sharon Howard-Field
- Casting: Jina Jay
- Production Design: Michael Carlin
- Art Direction: Karen Wakefield
- Set Decoration: Liz Griffiths
- Costume Design: Mary-Jane Reyner
- Hairstylist: Ivana Primorac
- Script Supervisor: Susanna Lenton
- Unit Publicist: Patricia Dobson
Movie Reviews:
- John Chard: Darkness in Devon.
- Tim Roth dons the directing hat for the first time and brings to the screen a shattering tale of incest and child abuse. Alexander Stuart adapts from his own novel and it stars Ray Winstone, Lara Belmont, Freddie Cunliffe and Tilda Swinton. Story is about a family who have moved from London to the Devonshire coast. The son, Tom, is unhappy and feels alienated in the new surroundings, but when he discovers a dark family secret, things become much much worse.
- It’s an uncomfortable viewing experience at times, making it a film you don’t readily recommend, but Roth’s approach to the story gives out a powerful message without exploitation or sermonising. The script is deliberately taut and sparse, while the marrying up of the crashing waves and jagged rocks of the locale with the emotional turmoil is a deft piece of directing. The use of newcomers Belmont and Cunliffe add a potent sense of realism to the whole thing, aided no end by an intelligent screenplay that doesn’t go for conventionality. Quite simply it’s an unforgettable film, a claustrophobic emotional battering ram of celluloid. 9/10
