Translating the lyrical prose of Oscar Wilde into Bradford mumbles, and trading the picturesque idyll of his magic garden for decaying post-industrial estates, Clio Barnard (The Arbor) presents us with a modern version of an old-fashioned fable. Here, adults wrong children, through greed or merely neglect; paths to adventure are deathly dangerous; love may or may not save you.
Striking opening shots of mossy green fields and midnight blue starry skies give way to the drab greys of scrap-yards. Barnard introduces our two young heroes, 13-year-olds Arbor and Swifty (Conner Chapman and Shaun Thomas; both newcomers, both extraordinary). The former is an ADHD sufferer with a vicious temper, mischievous wit and impermeable swagger; the latter a sensitive old soul with a protective streak. As they begin stealing metal and copper cable for shady dealer Kitten (Sean Gilder, intimidating and heart-wrenching), the film moves from keenly observed urban milieu to a dark coming-of-age tale to a hugely emotive friendship yarn.
The bleak social commentary and poetic style evoke a blend of Ken Loach and Steve McQueen, as the bold, brooding cinematography lends a vividly mythical quality to the boys’ small journeys.
Though the setting, dialogue and humour is earthy, rusty and rough, there’s a tenderness and spirituality to Barnard’s storytelling that elevates it far beyond the class-focused voyeurism that can too often dominate British social realism. A heartbreaking tale about two boys realising they’re not indestructible - but their friendship assuredly is.