The harshness of some critics astounds me. I am not involved with this production in any way, I am not giving it 10/10, I'm giving it an honest assessment.
A quiet, melancholy film about outsiders. The 'Civilised British' of this film are a group of religious fanatics exploiting those even lower in society than them. Living in tents and eking out an existance farming salt on the bleak Lincolnshire coast hardly makes you a part of society, yet they are still able to make profit off those even worse off than themselves.
The fact that Hannah Douglas has a stammer so severe she is functionally mute, and when she tries to speak she 'screeches like a lapwing' literalises the fact that for so many people throughout so much of history having a voice was not an option. When you can't speak, you can't speak up.
Emmett J Scanlan is a typical cult leader, in that he maintains his power through charisma and control, but what happens when the charisma stops working? Drinking more heavily through the course of the film starts things unravelling. Is he drinking because his control is slipping or is his control slipping therefore he's drinking? Either way it's a portrait of a man no longer in control of himself or others, and in my opinion it works well.
A touch more fatalistic acceptance of the way her life has gone from Hannah Douglas might have been in order and a few more happy interactions with Sebastian De Souza would have been nice, but overall a bleak, heart rending film that worked well on me.
