Ali & Ava

Writer/director Clio Barnard

director on the set

ALI & AVA               B+                                                                                                          Great Britain  (95 mi)  2021  ‘Scope  d: Clio Barnard

What would happen if you took melodrama as a genre and applied it to a social-realist version of Bradford that’s based on real people?  It’s an opportunity to think about what it means to be part of a community.  There’s a lot of kindness, generosity and support in Bradford and I wanted to see that writ large on the big screen.                                                                            —Writer/director Clio Barnard

An exquisitely made film that comes at you from unexpected places, becoming a film for our times, an update on the Rainer Werner Fassbinder film ALI:  FEAR EATS THE SOUL (1974), which was itself a reworking of the Douglas Sirk melodrama, All That Heaven Allows (1955), filmed only ten miles from where the writer/director grew up in Bradford, which has been the setting in three of her four feature films to date, like 2011 Top Ten Films of the Year #4 The Arbor (2011) and Barnard’s equally great 2014 Top Ten List #6 The Selfish Giant, while all four of her films have been set in Yorkshire County.  In those films, what Barnard does extremely well is showcase marginalization in the town of Bradford, people living on the fringes of society, poetically expressing how ordinary lives can be extraordinary.  This may be her most accessible work, featuring an unconventional working class interracial romance from two character actors who rarely get the chance to perform in lead roles, British-Pakistani-Kenyan actor Adeel Akhtar, who has mostly been seen on television, and Claire Rushbrook, who got her start working with Mike Leigh in Secrets and Lies (1996,) also playing opposite Samantha Morton in Carine Adler’s vastly underseen UNDER THE SKIN (1997), her one and only feature, where it’s important to say these two actors perfectly embody the unique characters they inhabit.  This is a surprisingly offbeat film that dares to explore cultural differences through an unlikely middle-age romance, yet what really stands out is the abstract, impressionistic style of the director, taking pages from the Lynne Ramsay and Andrea Arnold social realist playbook, yet making it unique to her own aesthetic, creating an emotionally deep portrait of life in Bradford, West Yorkshire, inspired by two people that Barnard met while she was making earlier films, Moey Hassan, a Bradford actor (who appears briefly in the film), landlord, and DJ who worked with her on THE ARBOR, while a few years later she met Rio, a teacher’s assistant at a school in Bradford who walked out of an abusive relationship during the making of THE SELFISH GIANT, with additional support from script consultant and Bradford-based writer Kamal Kaan.

Music is the beating heart of the film, like an unseen character, described by the director as a “social realist musical,” as profoundly memorable as the personalities who embrace it, as it’s something that links these two people together, beautifully integrating their distinctly different internalized worlds.  Ali (Adeel Akhtar) is a likeable Pakistani landlord, a former DJ who is into punk and rap, exuberant music you can dance to, like the Buzzcocks, Sylan Esso, and Lunar C, while Ava (Claire Rushbrook) is a caring and exceedingly sensitive teacher’s assistant, a widowed Irish mother and grandmother who, much to his dismay, is more into country music and traditional folk ballads, like American outlaw country singer Sammi Smith and Irish singer Karan Casey.  Both Ireland and Pakistan are two countries that were part of the former British Empire, each carrying a legacy of violence and racism, yet part of the melting pot of post-industrial Bradford, which once drew migrant workers from around the world, playing an important part in the early history of the Labour Party, but now facing serious economic and social challenges.  Bradford is a culturally diverse city that has an uncomfortable history of racism, especially in the 70’s, which were marked by hateful demonstrations and attacks, also known for the Brontë sisters who were born on the outskirts.  Both coming from troubled situations and different worlds, yet living in the same town, Ali lives with his recently separated wife Runa (Ellora Torchia) in a working class immigrant neighborhood of rowhouses, while Ava lives in the predominately white housing estate of Holme Wood, leaving her door open to an extended family that frequently come to visit.  What brings them together is their mutual affection for an extremely shy 6-year old girl, Sofia (Ariana Bodorová), a child from Slovak tenants living in a building that Ali manages, who also has language difficulties at school, so hangs out on her own at the playground for the most part. 

In contrast to the rampant crime in the North of England depicted in THE RED RIDING TRILOGY (2009), or the working class dramas of Ken Loach, Barnard offers a compassionate perspective on Northern life, its people and their daily lives, as Ali is introduced in a dense fog standing on the roof of his car and violently headbanging to a high-energy rap track to let off steam, I Know (MAROT Remix) YouTube (4:28), while Ava is seen on a bus lost in thought to the quieter lyrics of Sammi Smith, Saunders Ferry Lane~Sammi Smith YouTube (3:16), each from their own different worlds.  As fate would have it, Ali and Ava are brought together outside the school in a driving rainstorm, with Ali offering Ava a ride home after dropping off Sofia, sharing a moment with the Buzzcocks on the car radio, Boredom YouTube (2:54), only to be pelted by rocks from belligerent neighborhood kids at Holme Wood, who simply have nothing better to do, Ali & Ava - Car Stoning YouTube (1:57), with Ali winning them over by upping the volume on his radio to music of local neighborhood rapper MC Innes, like the lure of the Pied Piper, turning into an instantaneous little dance party in his car.  The next time they meet, they jump around on a set of sofas in Ava’s living room and create their own little party, Ali & Ava - Official Clip #1 YouTube (1:51), yet they’re each listening to distinctly different musical tracks on headphones, creating a kind of kaleidoscopic mix of jubilation and confusion.  If you sense this is not your standard kitchen sink British miserablism that we’re used to, you’d be correct, as this is more celebratory and life affirming.  While there are certainly downbeat subjects woven into the storyline, with moments of profound sadness, loss, and grief, they are countered by more jubilant moments that simply recognize a joy in living, and what a comfort it is to be sharing it with someone you love. 

Premiering at Director’s Fortnight at Cannes in 2021, not much was known about this overlooked film, which seems to have fallen through the cracks and been forgotten, but this is a world class director who makes emotional powerhouse films, and this is no exception, reportedly exuding a quiet presence on the set, often deferring to the actors, realizing the importance of not knowing everything and having an openness to not knowing.  The two lead performances are remarkably nuanced, very well paired together, though they are nothing alike, other than the fact both are intrinsically linked to their respective communities, knowing their neighbors while actively helping them out, like the familiarity of Ali rolling down the car window in his neighborhood to ask who died at a passing funeral, where everyone knows everyone else, both showing signs of extreme generosity, where it’s not told in a conventional manner, as moments appear out of time, giving experimental touches that simply expand the depth and complexity of the film.  What’s particularly impressive are the Ozu-like transitional cityscape shots, like fireworks against a darkened sky, a glowing moon hovering overhead, a moody atmospheric glimpse of early morning twilight, or slowed down pauses that feel like still shots, as they accentuate moments of reflection.  Undercliffe Cemetery overlooks Bradford and is a special place for Ali and Ava to meet.  Occasionally, Sofia has a tendency to climb up the monkey bars, but gets stuck, unable to climb back down without assistance, with Ava offering her reassurance and support, but reminds her that if you’re brave enough to climb up, you must be brave enough to climb back down, which may as well be a theme for the film, which continually keeps viewers off balance even through the end credits, as there is a constant stream of surprises that greatly enhances the overall viewing experience.   

One of the most distinctive voices in British cinema, Barnard’s interest in film started at the age of 14 when she watched Mick Jagger in Nicolas Roeg’s Performance (1970), an acid trip of a movie.  It was on TV late at night, and she viewed it on a black-and-white portable in her bedroom with the volume turned down.  What amazed her was its ability to mess with her head.  “Here’s this real rock star pretending to be one, whose sort-of girlfriend is also in the film in this crazy threesome.  There was something about the real and the fictional that was really fascinating.  It blew my tiny mind.”  What’s most astonishing is how this film subverts expectations in a modern interracial romance that counters the fearmongering of toxic politicians, where there's a tenderness within, finding beauty in the most volatile moments through a beautifully shot character study about two lonely misfits who find emotional comfort and support in each other despite their past traumas and having to deal with community expectations, as they are a catalyst for change in each other’s lives.  There are shocking turns of darkness that come out of nowhere, taking us through intensely personalized avenues of racial abuse and domestic violence, as each respective family quickly disassociates themselves from this new love interest, finding fault in their character when it’s really about race, growing perilously ugly and even dangerous when Ava’s grown son Callum (Shaun Thomas, one of the local kids in THE SELFISH GIANT) pulls a samurai sword on Ali, believing his recently deceased father would roll over in his grave, as he was a member of the National Front (UK).  Ava’s Irish Republican father, who was fiercely proud of his heritage, deeply despised the British and disowned her for marrying an Englishman, a man Callum still idolizes, despite his history of abuse, causing plenty of friction.  Similarly, Ali’s sister calls Ava a “gori chav,” which basically means white trash, coming from a more traditional-minded family that has been kept in the dark about his imminent separation that he’s too ashamed to acknowledge, still living together with Runa but in different bedrooms, having shared an unspeakable trauma that they simply never recovered from. 

It’s an unlikely culture-clash romance in a blue collar city, where the social realist style is beautifully mixed with a steady stream of lyrical musical passages that express what they’re feeling underneath, with Barnard adding her own experimental stylistic flourishes that elevate what we’re seeing onscreen, yet what’s apparent is that the joy of music is an act of resistance, exquisitely shot on ‘Scope by Ole Bratt Birkeland, who also shot her first film.  It’s all about the power of healing, where there’s no right or wrong way, but you know it when you feel it, where there’s actually a laying-on-the-hands sequence, ALI & AVA Clip | TIFF 2021 YouTube (37 seconds), as a shared love of music allows them to heal and transform one another through ordinary acts of kindness.  Familiar Bradford locations include the massive Waterstones bookstore, Undercliffe Cemetery, Bradford Cathedral grounds, Cow and Calf rocks on the Ilkley Moor, and the Keighley and Worth Railway, yet it’s the inner journey that stands out, expressed through British rap, Skwolla | Lunar C YouTube (4:41), American electro-pop, Sylvan Esso - Radio (Music Video) YouTube (3:34), a raw and earthy bootleg Bob Dylan recording, Mama, You Been On My Mind (Studio Outtake - 1964) YouTube (2:55), which curiously has a crossover effect on both characters, and British pub music by Ewan MacColl expressed through a drunken mother and son duo, Ali & Ava - Official Clip #2 YouTube (53 seconds).  Yet what’s most remarkable, and may be the most impactive part of the film, is the final credits sequence, a gift that keeps giving, moving from the thumping EDM music, Daniel Avery - Drone Logic (Official Video) YouTube (5:15), to a heart-rending traditional Irish ballad from Karan Casey, Grace (From Ali & Ava) YouTube (5:29), a searing version of a social justice love song that has a similar effect as the cathartic final scene from John Huston’s The Dead (1987), finding that emotional core that leaves audiences utterly transfixed, having been thoroughly transformed by the experience. 

Drop

 

Director Christopher Landon

Michael Landon with his son Christopher

director on the set with actress Meghann Fahey

DROP             C                                                                                                                        USA  Ireland  (95 mi)  2025  ‘Scope  d: Christopher Landon

A modern technology horror thriller, a whodunit for the digital age meshed together with the awkwardness of the bad date genre, mostly taking place at a single location while playing out in real time, it takes advantage of some latest technology that never existed before, developing a peculiar story around this specific product, the file-sharing system AirDrop, a phenomenon introduced by Apple on their iPhones and iPads in 2013, a feature that allows you to share photos, videos, and files with other nearby iPhone users (within 30 feet) without any fuss, with no Internet connection needed, though Bluetooth is required, but if the settings are not adjusted to just your own contacts, unsolicited strangers can also gain access.  In this case, that is exactly what the villain is relying upon, hacking into an unsuspecting woman’s system like a virus, literally taking over her life in unexpected ways, all revolving around heavily abusive control issues, exploring how invasive technology can be weaponized, reminiscent of “the call is coming from inside the house” horror scenarios, where she unwittingly sets a trap for herself and then can’t find a way out.  In 2024 it was revealed that Chinese hackers had been obtaining access to supposedly private and protected information on people’s iPhones via the AirDrop service for years (Apple AirDrop leaks user data like a sieve. Chinese ...).  In the tradition of Fred Walton’s WHEN A STRANGER CALLS (1976), Joel Schumacher’s PHONE BOOTH (2002), Wes Craven’s RED EYE (2005), Jaume Collet-Serra’s more recent CARRY-ON (2024), also his earlier films NON-STOP (2014) and THE COMMUTER (2018), or even as early as Anatole Litvak’s SORRY, WRONG NUMBER (1948), these films create tension around mysterious, threatening phone messages to build suspense.  In the event people are curiously interested with their phones and the outlandish things they can do, this film may carry some weight, but for those who find phone technology the bane of our existence, as our obsession with staring at phones has destroyed our social mores and the cultural fabric of our nation, as evidenced by the re-election of a President whose populism is a dangerous sham, something right out of Frank Capra’s MEET JOHN DOE (1941), where that wouldn’t have happened without our narcissistic obsession with phones and social media (Is Technology Really Ruining Teens' Lives? - The New Yorker), this film is a complete waste of time, as it’s little more than a technology-gone-wrong fantasy, perhaps best exemplified by one of the most creatively inventive, Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner (1982), as opposed to the more middle of the road, Joseph Kosinski’s TRON: Legacy in 3D at IMAX (2010), which this more closely resembles.  Written by Jillian Jacobs and Chris Roach, produced by Michael Bay, whose films tend to be pretentiously over-the-top, while directed by Christopher Landon (son of TV star Michael Landon), a specialist of mixing genres, who was a writer of one of the gay-themed episodes of BOYS LIFE 3 (2000), co-writer on D.J. Caruso’s DISTURBIA (2007), a Hitchcock REAR WINDOW-inspired crime thriller before directing a series of forgettable horror comedies, actually opting out of SCREAM 7 before making this film.  Some may find an interesting dynamic developing with one character completely caught down the rabbit hole of a horror thriller while the other is stuck in the bad date genre, edited in a choppy manner, with quick cuts, feeling overly contrived and nonsensical, yet they’re both attempting, mostly unsuccessfully, to cross that divide.     

At the center of the picture is Violet (Meghann Fahey from the anthology TV series The White Lotus, 2022 Season Two), a widow whose relationship with her abusive husband opens the movie in a shockingly violent way, a punishingly violent confrontation between a bloodied and dazed Violet and her agitated husband Blake (Michael Shea), where we never learn the source of his anger, but we do learn this is a flashback that ends badly.  Scenes of this play out early and again late in the picture, revisiting the scene with additional context, where it actually sets the stage for what follows.  But Violet has turned her life around, as she now counsels fellow domestic abuse survivors, and is about to go on her first date since the death of her husband, something she’s obviously very nervous about, having a hard time picking out the right outfit to wear, where her younger sister Jen (Violett Beane), who’s there to babysit her young bespectacled son Toby (Jacob Robinson), urges her to go with a plunging neckline, suggesting getting laid could be the answer to all her problems.  Given the gnarly images of the earlier abuse, one suspects we’re in real trouble when this is the kind of glib advice given.  After months of texting on a dating app, she has hesitantly agreed to finally meet a professional photographer, Henry (Brandon Sklenar), for dinner at a lavishly upscale penthouse Chicago restaurant at the top of a skyscraper with floor to ceiling windows, sitting at a window table overlooking the illuminated city below.  The luxuriousness is almost too perfect for words, as it just exudes exclusivity, created by production designer Susie Cullen in Ireland’s Ardmore Studios just outside Dublin, displaying an opulence that exists only in the movies, the kind of place ordinary people never see.  While sitting at the bar waiting for Henry to arrive, Violet meets another nervous man on a blind date, Richard (Reed Diamond), and offers him some encouragement.  When they’re finally seated, Henry is charming and relaxed, Drop Movie Clip - Henry Arrives (2025) YouTube (1:06), showing extreme patience and understanding when she continually frets with her phone and makes repeated exits to the ladies room, as she starts to receive creepy AirDrop messages that she initially ignores, but they steadily grow more menacing.  Richard is familiar with the technology, believing you have to be within 50 feet to generate the messages, so he helpfully looks around for possible suspects, but finds no one that stands out, Drop Exclusive Movie Clip - We Can Figure This Out (2025) YouTube (47 seconds).  However, the evening immediately takes a sharp turn for the worse when the persistent pest tells Violet to check her home security cameras, where she spots a masked intruder with a gun, receiving instructions that if she tells anyone what’s going on, or refuses to comply with what she’s ordered to do, her son and sister will die, Drop (2025) 4K - There's A Killer in Your House | Movieclips YouTube (3:44).  That is the premise for the film, as she’s caught between trying to have a good time on a date and having the worst night of her life, spending most of the date away from the table, which is bugged, as is the entire restaurant, where the nightmarish instructions only grow more threatening and controlling, forcing her to do something evil, testing the limits of how far one is willing to go, and whether murder is on the list.    

The unpleasantness has only begun, growing weirder and more twisted as things start spiraling out of control, with Violet drawn into this cruel variation on Michael Haneke’s Funny Games (1997), where the key is accentuating the same isolated helplessness she felt from domestic abuse, the same male toxic behavior that is sadistically punishing, as she’s experienced being the victim before, with suspense shrewdly built by concealing the identity of the perpetrator.  The chaotic disorientation she feels while on a date is undercut even further by being humiliated by the awkwardness of the circumstances, as she’s surrounded by the picture of lavish extravagance that turns into claustrophobic confinement, where she’s threatened beyond belief, but can’t escape, and can’t tell anyone, though Henry, who remains a perfect gentleman throughout, suspects something is up by how easily distracted she is by the phone, which is constantly interrupting their evening.  As she looks around the room, nearly all are glued to their phones, as any number of people come into play, all of whom raise suspicions, from the weirdly off-putting yet eager and energetic waiter Matt (Jeffery Self), the circumspect hostess (Sarah McCormack), the benevolent bartender Cara (Gabrielle Ryan), the in-house lounge pianist Phil (Ed Weeks), the handsome young man who claims to be waiting for his sister (Travis Nelson), a group of high school kids out on prom night, to the bumbling older man nervous about his blind date (Fiona Browne), who unexpectedly walks out on their date, leaving him with a few choice words.  The constant interruptions may leave a few exasperated viewers, as we’re continually jolted into sinister territory that grows increasingly preposterous, becoming more luridly threatening, Drop (2025) 4K - Kill Your Date! | Movieclips YouTube (4:29).  The problem is there’s very little self-reflection in this film, which means it’s all surface level, which typically doesn’t carry films very far unless it’s an action adventure, which this isn’t until the last few minutes, instead the drama is carried by a continual stream of phone messaging, where watching a woman’s incessant texting, with the words flashing onscreen, is not exactly a picture of excitement, as no one yet has found a way to make texting cinematic, but it feeds into the short attention span of audiences today, with everything spoonfed to you at length so that nothing is left open to interpretation.  While it does reflect the modern day obsession with phones, and how frighteningly exposed that leaves us, where our safety is easily compromised, this simply isn’t anything new, with no real revelations to speak of other than the fact there are no end credits.  If it was a menacing woman behind the scenes mercilessly carrying out this kind of outlandish scheme, that might have turned some heads, as it’s something we rarely see, as psychopath-driven behavior is typically male.  The excitement level is little more than standard fare, Drop (2025) 4K - Mommy vs. Child Killer | Movieclips YouTube (4:39), where watching the pummeling of a woman by a man is not exactly what you sign up for at the movies, but carries an age-old tradition of misogynist behavior, where men are typically the bullies on the block.  While domestic violence is conveniently interwoven into the narrative, the movie never addresses this in any substantial way, as opposed to Miia Tervo’s Finnish film 2024 Top Ten List #10 The Missile (Ohjus), for instance, which makes a deep and long-lasting impression, leaving viewers with an emptiness afterwards that just doesn’t sit right.