Film editor AYAZ KHEZRZADEH attends The London Film Festival and poses the question: “what makes a film British?”
The 68th BFI London Film Festival proved once again an important platform for voices, old and new, to explore the essence of British cinema. Showing between the 9th and 20th of October 2024, the festival brought together a diverse curation that challenged the narratives traditionally viewed as “British”. Instead, its selection showcased works that sought to celebrate the experiences that define contemporary British identity, despite their historical neglect on the big screen. Here are three of the most successful of these representations.
Blitz (dir. Steve McQueen)
Steve McQueen’s return to the silver screen was highly anticipated since his 2018 release, Widows. Opening the festival, his newest work, Blitz (2024), tells a story told time-and-time before: The Blitz.
Set in World War II London, the film follows nine year old George (Elliot Heffernan) as he finds his way home to his mother Rita (Saoirse Ronan) after having been separated during evacuation. On the surface, this is a narrative all too familiar to the British conscious. From Atonement (2007) to Dunkirk (2017), British cinema is oversaturated with films based around war-time Britain. Such a familiarity is clear from the offset in Blitz, showing grandiose bird’s eye shots of a dishevelled, war-torn London, reminiscent of the large, sweeping shots characteristic to Grenfell, McQueen’s 2023 short film. Yet, what makes McQueen’s take so refreshing is his focus on the Black experience during this period, one that has been historically neglected. It is this which makes Blitz an appropriate opening to the festival, reconstructing the idea of the “British” experience that we all thought we already knew. By maintaining his lens on George’s individual experiences, McQueen is able to discuss wider themes of racism without losing sight of the humanity of the individual.
From the microaggressions of peers picking on his hair, to the largely overt acts of calling him slurs, the film depicts the harsh realities of the British Black experience – an experience that feels disturbingly resonant in Britain today. McQueen goes on to contextualise George’s individual experience, most apparent perhaps when he happens across a museum exhibiting the British Empire, or, more accurately, the colonisation of Africa and the animalistic image of Black people that came along with it. It is a moment of heartbreaking self-realisation as the images he is confronted with show that he is a microcosm of something much larger. George’s moment of self-realisation is emphasised when he comes across Ife (Benjamin Clémentine), night warden whose unapologetic love for his Nigerian identity pushes George to continue his own journey towards self-acceptance. This journey becomes fully realised when George finally proclaims to his new friend, “I am black”.
It is an undeniably powerful sentiment to show, let alone on the scale of a McQueen film. Whether it is documenting the aftermath of Grenfall, or depicting the Black experience during World War II London, it is clear that McQueen is interested in redefining the “British” experience to be more than just a white one.
Last Swim (dir. Sasha Nathawani)
Last Swim (2024) is Sasha Nathawani’s film debut, and a bold one at that. Despite premiering earlier this year at the Berlinale, its showcasing at the London Film Festival feels like Last Swim’s true homecoming. Based in London, the narrative follows sixth form student Ziba (Deba Hekmat) and her friends on A-Level results day; suffering with an underlying illness, she attempts to make the most of the day as if it is her last.
As a British-Iranian girl, Ziba embodies the British-immigrant experience. Excelling in her academics, and going on to study Astrophysics at University College London, it is clear that she strives for a living beyond the circumstances she has been given. Still, the film does not judge these circumstances, but rather celebrates them. Half Iranian himself, Nathawani showcases the British-Iranian experience lovingly; from the dual-language dialogue of farsi and english to Ziba’s mother and aunties having chai together, Nathawani sprinkles small subtle traces of culture in a way that feels sincere rather than forced. This sincerity recurs on the walls of Ziba’s room, filled with protest posters of “Azadi, Zan, Zendegi” (“Woman, Life, Freedom”). However, this is not the film’s vocal point nor is it harped on. Nathawani quickly lets on that an Iranian girl’s story does not always need to be politicised, nor maintain any sort of agenda. This is because existence is in itself resistance, and watching Ziba exist with her friends is all we as an audience need to understand her story.
A London story through and through, the narrative follows Ziba as she takes her friends on an itinerary all around the city on one hot summer’s day. From Hampstead Heath to Portobello Market, London becomes a character in its own right. Nathawani wastes no time in making use of the external city to help punctuate Ziba’s own internal journey with illness and mortality, an endeavour through which Nathwani’s love of the city shines vehemently throughout. But ultimately, it is the chemistry between Ziba and her friends that truly sells the film; nothing is forced between these characters, the audience merely observers to their amusing yet genuine dynamics. Written alongside Helen Simmons, Nathawani accurately captures how young people speak in a way that is earnest and not at all artificial. In writing dialogue this way, he welds a narrative that does not feel the need to make a grandiose statement on the youth of today.
We Live In Time (dir. John Crowley)
On first watch, We Live In Time (2024) feels like a return to form for British cinema. The story follows Almut (Florence Pugh) and Tobias’ (Andrew Garfield) love story, underpinned by the inevitably of time catching up to them. From Jaffa Cakes, to old corduroy blazers, to twee home-cut bangs, it is clear that Crowley has a good understanding of what makes up a typical “British” film of this genre. Tonally reminiscent of works the likes of Bridget Jones Diary (2001) and Notting Hill (1999), We Live In Time manages to express the quirked-up British humour that we have not encountered since the early 2000s – to the point where you half-expect a cameo from Hugh Grant himself. Even down to the eccentric and off-centre names of its protagonists, Crowly seamlessly returns to the beloved, cosy British rom-com. However, even with the cliches, We Live In Time remains remarkably sincere in its delivery.
It is the universality of the film’s subject matter that allows it to resonate so deeply with audiences, leaving us weeping by the end-credits. Following a non-linear narrative, Crowley plays with the concept of time to reconstruct the typical rom-com into something more raw. This is only accentuated further by Almut’s diagnosis of ovarian cancer. However, what one would assume a wholly morbid topic for a film, with its dark themes of mortality and running-out-of-time, is instead approached in the most warm way. Crowley depicts honest and realistic scenes of chemotherapy and hospital visits, but manages to saturate them positively through Almut and Tobias’ loving interactions. Of course, part of this is attributable to screenwriter Nick Payne, but it is the performance of Academy Award nominees Andrew Garfield and Florence Pugh that truly sell the chemistry between the two characters.
This chemistry is most apparent at the climax of the film, specifically during an argument between Tobias and Almut. Refusing to slow down in her career despite her illness, Almut enters a renowned cooking competition – without telling Tobias. This results in a heartbreaking argument, with Tobias claiming that if she quit, she could afford herself more time to live. This culminates finally in Almut’s heart-wrenching pronouncement that she “couldn’t bear the thought of being forgotten”. And this is the crux of the film. How can we afford more time for ourselves and our loved ones? How do we make sure they remember us? By the end, the audience is asking themselves these same questions, hoping to leave a mark on life in the same way this film so poignantly does.
Featured image courtesy of the BFI.
