Nocturnal // Review

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There are some films that stay on your radar for a while, which you await with growing impatience as the time between your initial awareness of it and its eventual release date seems to be getting longer and longer. Nathalie Biancheri’s fiction feature début, Nocturnal (2019), was one such film for me. I was unable to get into its premiere at the London Film Festival in last October, but was entranced by the moody suspense and aesthetic beauty of its trailer and the promotional material, as well as the promise of more from Cosmo Jarvis, whom I had just watched in Calm with Horses (Nick Rowland, 2019). Admittedly, the pandemic and the subsequent lack of cinema releases may have made my wait for Nocturnal feel all the more lethargic, but I am delighted to confirm that the film is a stunning piece of work. 

 

The plot is relatively simple. We are introduced to Pete (Cosmo Jarvis), who spends his days working as a painter and decorator in a town he has never left on the glum yet pretty Yorkshire coast. One of his jobs leads him to do some work at an athletic club, where his attention wanders to Laurie (Lauren Coe), a 17-year-old schoolgirl who has just moved over from Dublin with her mum (Sadie Frost). To reveal more would be to spoil a script filled with sensitivity and sophistication, deftly balancing between imagery that is both troubling and heartfelt. 

 

From the very first shot, we are introduced to a world of emotional and physical stagnation, where people are unable to communicate in the ways they desire and cannot move on with their lives. Even Laurie and her mum are originally from this place, suggesting that they were always destined to return. The slow-motion and obstructed framing of the opening sets up the atmospheric tension of this impotence of expression for the film that follows. Instead of attempting to resolve the issues that come up in their lives, characters perpetually linger on the unspoken words on the tips of their tongues that would make everything so much easier. Much like in Normal People (Lenny Abrahamson, 2020), if only they could find those words, then perhaps they could be released. The dramatic tension is certainly a frustration, but that is what makes it so evocative: one scene was so effective that I was actually squirming in my seat. You’ll know the one. 

 

Michal Dymek’s arresting cinematography makes extensive use of long, lingering shots that serve to mimic the paralysis suffered by the characters. The palette of pastel blues and peaches transfixes with its visual allure, lending an almost hypnotic background to what plays out on screen. Even as the characters repeatedly fail to say what they need to, and this is irksome to witness over and over again, it is a human trait. The calming backdrop to these failures helps to soften them in a sense, and makes it far easier to look at the characters with empathy and care. The final scene is devastating.

 

The pacing stumbles slightly near the end, but otherwise this is a stunning film that keeps surprising and engaging you with its considered visual dexterity and perceptive characterisation. It is so much better than Tenet (Christopher Nolan, 2020) and a very good reason to return to a cinema screen.

Nocturnal is released in Irish cinemas and on digital platforms on September 18.

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