The title of Paul Andrew Williams’ disquieting drama, which premiered earlier this year at Tribeca and is now at Karlovy Vary, is one of the multi-layered mysteries of a film that defies both genre and easy explanations. The largest part of the story is mostly confined to two adjacent homes in a deteriorating British small town. A few flower patches on tiny lawns can’t hide the depressing drabness of this neighborhood, which was once middle class but now has council housing. This social change is embodied by the protagonists. Senior citizen Elsie (an excellent Brenda Blethyn) is a living remnant from a time when this was a prosperous family neighborhood.
Her husband is deceased, and her adult son John (Jason Watkins) only rarely visits, sending an ever-changing array of care workers to appease his conscience. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Colleen (equally gripping: Andrea Riseborough), Elsie’s thirty-something neighbor on benefits. She lives in the company of her imposing dog Saber, who is much more than a dramatic vehicle initiating the women’s friendship. An attack dog breed, but gentle and harmless, as his owner assures the frightful Elsie, Saber mirrors the social perception of underclass people like Colleen. Just as the audience expects Saber to finally snap, they expect Colleen to abuse the trust – and the credit card – of Elsie to whom she becomes an unpaid help.
Though Colleen herself suggests supporting the gout-ridden elderly woman, this menial work also illustrates their status imbalance. While Elsie genuinely appreciates Colleen’s company, she is also quick to accept her as an unpaid servant. This close observation of class dynamics exposes the entitlement middle-class people feel towards underclass work. Williams never courts suspicion against Colleen, but he is very aware that this is where a middle-class audience will naturally direct it, as he builds underlying tension. Andy Coles’ ominous soundtrack and DoP Vanessa Whyte’s watchful 16mm images, employing soft, natural lighting and a muted color palette, create an atmosphere of diffuse fear.
This isn’t one of these sweetish stories of cross-generation camaraderie, for which the dramatic premise seems to be cut out. Both women are lonely and overlooked by society in their own way. Their homes’ interiors are symmetrical, emphasizing their parallel isolation, while evoking a sense of spatial enclosure. Camera movement is minimal, often static or observational, reinforcing the restrained tone. For every cozy scene of bonding over tea and cake, there is a reminder of the hardships they face. This goes especially for Colleen, whose struggle moves slowly into focus while the psychological tension grows. She hasn’t done anything bad and is appalled by Elsie’s mistreatment at the hands of the nurses who shortchange her on care time.
Still, Colleen is an intruder for those higher up on the social ladder. This includes the audience as much as Elsie’s son. He takes strategic steps to first humiliate her, then hit her where it hurts most. The drastic consequences plunge the story into thriller terrain, then into straight-up horror. All the pain, anger, and desperation brewing underneath the treacherously calm surface finally lies open. It is horrific but also liberating, a gruesome moment of catharsis cinema rarely granted to underclass characters. Anchored by strong performances from Blethyn and Riseborough, Williams strips class-crossing bonds of all phony positivism and exposes the quiet devastations of neglect and structural failure.
- OT: Dragonfly
- Director: Paul Andrew Williams
- Year: 2025
