
Review by Eric Hillis
Directed by: Joseph Millson
Starring: Sarah-Jane Potts, David Ganly, Sharon Duce

"Talkies" had been around for over a decade before Charlie Chaplin decided to give his characters spoken dialogue. Chaplin believed that a large part of the universal appeal of his Little Tramp persona was the character's silence, which allowed the audience to project more of themselves on the character. As played by Sarah-Jane Potts, Anne, the protagonist of actor Joseph Millson's feature debut as writer/director, is a descendant of Chaplin's Little Tramp. She's a character who doesn't speak, and her silence forces us to question her interiority while highlighting the noise of the world around her.

"I'm not deaf, I just don't speak," reads the note Anne presents to any inquisitive strangers. The key word is "don't," which makes us question if Anne has voluntarily chosen her silence or had it thrust upon her. We're told practically nothing about Anne, but we know she's grieving for some ambiguous loved one because she travels to Lanzarote with the intent of scattering their ashes in the sea.
Anne's plans are scuppered on her first night when a group of louts in the chalet next door threaten her after she complains about their loud music. Anne decides to sleep rough, spending the next day searching for somewhere to stay. This arrives in the unexpected form of Bill (David Ganly), a divorced dad who booked a villa for a holiday with his kids. With his wife refusing to allow the children to travel, he's now left alone and decides to fly back home. Noticing Anne wandering the streets with her luggage in tow, he offers to allow her to stay for the remainder of his booking.

What follows is a refreshingly platonic tale of bonding between two people suffering very different types of loss. Bill is a motormouth whose nervousness around Anne only causes him to speak all the more. Anne observes him with a mix of inquisitiveness and apprehension, like a cat trying to suss out if the human who proffered a bowl of milk can be trusted. Anne encourages Bill to see out his booking rather than leave, but there's no suggestion of any blossoming romance between these two people. And given his anger issues, we're not entirely sure Anne is safe in his presence. When he launches into the sort of "men's rights" rant that suggests he's watched too much Jordan Peterson, our hearts immediately sink.
But this is a film full of humanity, one that ultimately sees the best in people, looking beyond their faults. This is exemplified in Anne's awkward encounter with Joyce (Sharon Duce), an elderly tourist who plonks herself down at Anne's table in the resort restaurant. At first Joyce comes off as the last person you'd want to get stuck with for lunch, speaking without a filter about her sexual encounter with a stranger the night before. We see Anne shudder at such vulgarity, but she's won over by this woman's brazenness, her ability to embrace life in a way Anne has probably never allowed herself to.

In very different roles that require two disparate styles of acting, Potts and Ganly make for an initially uncomfortable but always compelling duo. Ganly's Bill is both comic foil and potential threat, putting his foot in it repeatedly by saying the wrong thing and often succumbing to cramp when he pushes his middle-aged body too far in his exercise routine. Potts is like a version of Audrey Tautou's Amelie that has seen more to cause her pain than wonder. The narrative places her in real and potential danger, and even at the end we're not quite sure if she's in the clear, but this is a film that punctuates even its darker moments with unexpected comedy. In some points you won't know whether to laugh or cry, but this is a film that quietly earns both responses.

Signs of Life is in UK cinemas from September 5th.