Anemone Review: Daniel Day-Lewis Returns for a Bleak and Painfully Serious Misfire
It has been eight long years since Daniel Day-Lewis last graced the screen, after the filming of 2017’s Phantom Thread left him “overwhelmed by a sense of sadness.” The legendary actor’s retirement, it turns out, was more of a hiatus — an extended period of rest and recuperation before diving back into the depths of drama with Anemone, a film that marks both his return and the feature directorial debut of his son, Ronan Day-Lewis.
In this anticipated comeback film, the audience is greeted with a stark, atmospheric embrace that carries the weight of the heavy themes it aims to explore. The narrative delves into the "complex and profound ties that exist between brothers, fathers, and sons," set against the backdrop of the late 1980s in the fog-laden northern English coast. Unfortunately, the result is often a disheartening experience for viewers.
A Gloomy Atmosphere
Anemone begins with an air of solemnity that permeates its two-hour runtime. The film’s atmosphere is marked by unrelenting heaviness, underscored by a prayer delivered by Sean Bean’s character, whose creased face mirrors the film’s somber tone. The visual terrain is populated with intimate close-ups of bloody knuckles and austere settings, which lend themselves to an exploration of repressed trauma. The film endeavors, through its cinematography, to communicate the bleakness of its themes, primarily the unexpressed pain of stoic, war-torn men.
While the film’s intention to evoke deep emotional resonance is commendable, it often leans too heavily into its own gravitas, creating a barrier between the audience and its characters. Viewers may find themselves yearning for a moment of lightness amidst the turmoil, a feeling that speaks to both the talent of the actors and the weighty script they’ve enacted.
Characters and Themes
At the center of this emotional abyss is Ray Stoker, played by Day-Lewis himself. Portrayed as a solitary figure haunted by a traumatic past — particularly his time as a British paramilitary in Northern Ireland during the 1960s — Ray is both compelling and jarring. His character is built on layers of bitterness, loneliness, and a foul temper, leading audiences into a complex psychological landscape. Day-Lewis brings an intensity to this role that is mesmerizing, utilizing his hallmark method acting to deliver a performance that, at times, feels painfully authentic.
As the narrative unfolds, familial dynamics take the forefront. Ray’s estranged brother, Jem (Sean Bean), arrives seeking reconciliation, propelled by his wife Nessa (Samantha Morton) and their troubled son Brian (Samuel Bottomley). Brian, burdened by anger and the weight of his family’s history, serves as a conduit for the generational trauma that Ray embodies. While the female characters in this story are often relegated to roles that embody patience and yearning, they do contribute to the overarching theme of healing and emotional responsibility.
Pacing and Emotional Depth
The film’s pace is deliberately slow, marked by long stretches of silence filled with unspoken words. While this choice seems to aim for heightened emotional impact, it sometimes leads to moments of alienation for the viewer. There are effective scenes where the palpable tension between Ray and Jem operates at a simmer, only to culminate in a series of blunt confessions that seem almost overwhelming in their severity.
Yet, amidst the gloom, there are glimmers of effective storytelling. Day-Lewis delivers two powerful monologues that lift the audience from the depths of despair — brief moments where the film transcends its weighty premise and engages with a more universal depth of human experience. The cinematography, helmed by Ronan Day-Lewis, captures these moments, framing the actor with shadow and light, effectively amplifying their emotional weight.
A Promise of Talent
While Anemone may not fully deliver on its ambitious themes, it showcases potential — especially in the younger Day-Lewis. The film is visually compelling, with a hauntingly beautiful aesthetic that could serve as a foundation for deeper emotional exploration in future projects. The shadows, swirling skies, and engaging montages evoke a haunting poignancy, suggesting that the director possesses a precocious understanding of atmosphere and emotional manipulation.
What ultimately hampers Anemone is its struggle to balance its abundant seriousness with relatable emotional authenticity. While the aesthetics and performances are commendable, the film often finds itself mired in a sense of import that undermines its aim for genuine resonance.
Conclusion
In summary, Anemone marks a significant moment in the careers of both Daniel Day-Lewis and his son Ronan. While it might not live up to expectations set by its notable talent, it stands as an introspective piece pondering themes of family, trauma, and reconciliation. Audiences are left to navigate a fog of heavy emotion that may resonate with some but alienate others. For those who appreciate a deeply serious narrative, Anemone offers a bleak yet earnest examination of the ties that bind us, but it ultimately serves as a reminder of the complexities of familial relationships — both enduring and strained. With hopeful optimism for the young director’s future projects, there remains faith that the artistic collaboration of this father-son duo will bear fruit in subsequent endeavors.
