‘Signs of Life’ Review
Stars: Sharon Duce, Sarah-Jane Potts, David Ganly, Helen Grady, Jessica Millson, Ben Redman, Oliver Jackson | Written and Directed by Joseph Millson
Signs of Life is the feature directorial debut of prolific British actor-turned-filmmaker Joseph Millson. A movie that is an ambitious blend of heart-stopping drama and uplifting optimism. A story that seeks to explore the fragile interplay between grief, human connection, and the redemptive power of kindness. A project that, while very entertaining,g is also absolutely needed out in the world right now, cinema is often a reflection of not where we are, but where we should be or should be heading towards. Produced under MillPotts Productions, the film builds on the thematic groundwork laid by Millson’s award-winning short films The Magician and Care, completing a loose trilogy that grapples with heartache and the beauty of life. While the film has a modest budget and indie ethos, this never limits its polish. In fact it elevates the project if anything. Signs of Life compensates its budget with earnest storytelling, strong performances, incredibly daring cinematography, a big old slice of can-do attitude and a score by Oscar-winning composer Anne Dudley that elevates its emotional stakes. The result is a poignant, at times heartbreaking, occasionally hilarious, meditation on human resilience that truly magically resonates in our “wobbly times.”
Anne (Sarah-Jane Potts), a woman who, after suffering a recent,t somewhat ambiguous tragedy, is seeking to escape her emotional stagnation by embarking on a solo holiday to Lanzarote. Her journey takes a perilous turn upon arrival, thrusting her into supposed danger that sets the stage for certain apprehension. A fortuitous meeting with another solitary traveller, Bill (David Ganly), introduces a potential friend and lifeline, an “unexpected solution” that promises some sort of salvation for both. Is Bill the wandering soul that will draw Anne back out of her self-imposed silence? Could Anne be the solid brick wall that Bill’s bravado can’t quite run through, forcing him to deal with his own issues?
Sarah-Jane Potts delivers a hell of a nuanced performance as Anne, anchoring the film with a blend of vulnerability and resolve. Potts brings a lived-in authenticity to Anne’s emotional journey, portraying her as both fragile and fiercely determined to reclaim her agency. You do tend to wonder when an Actor takes on a role that has almost zero dialogue, how they will convince you of the pain, but Potts is able to pepper you with emotional body shots and uppercuts with nothing but a look. Her chemistry with David Ganly’s Bill is the spine of the film, their interactions oscillating between tentative warmth and guarded suspicion. Ganly portrays Bill with quite an intensity, his out-there demeanour masking layers of personal turmoil that unravel as the story progresses. At first, his interactions with Anne feel slightly out of place and maybe that’s on me as a viewer and my outlook on the world, but slowly and assuredly, their friendship becomes this beautiful microcosm of healing power.
Then we have an ensemble that is doing a great job fleshing out this world too, the likes of Sharon Duce’s Joyce, who serves up a touch of levity at a much-needed moment and Jessica Millson (Joseph’s daughter) in a small but very very memorable fun role.
As a first-time feature director, Joseph Millson demonstrates a clear passion for storytelling. The decision to blend “heart-stopping drama” with subtle comedy within a character that, for the most part, doesn’t speak is bold and throws up a balancing act that is executed with precision. Millson’s background as an actor informs his direction, with a keen focus on character-driven moments. And that is where the movie lives and breathes. Showcasing shades of obviously Ken Loach but also a keen sense of Jean Pierre-Jeunet in spots, giving us a gritty sense of something akin to Amelie. All accentuated by the film’s broader visual language, a gorgeous cinemascope experience further stamps the point that just because we are low budget doesn’t mean we can’t hang with the best. Cinematographer Elliot Millson, an already award-nominated talent, brings a promising eye to the project, capturing the holiday setting with perfectly framed and fairly vibrant, sunlit hues and the contrasting darker story beats. Then there’s the standout technical element in Anne Dudley’s score, a collaboration with co-composer Roger Dudley. A team known for The Full Monty and American History X, to name a couple, Dudley crafts a soundtrack that weaves orchestral swells with intimate, piano-driven motifs, amplifying the film’s emotional peaks. The score serves as a sort of narrative glue, lending gravitas to key scenes.
Signs of Life shines in its sincerity and thematic ambition. Millson’s script tackles universal themes of grief, depression, and the search for meaning. All done with a refreshing optimism, avoiding the cynicism that often obscures modern dramas. The film’s message, encapsulated in its tagline about the “outstretched hand,” feels particularly resonant in a post-pandemic world marked by isolation and uncertainty. The chemistry between Potts and Ganly, coupled with Dudley’s evocative score, ensures that the film’s emotional beats land effectively, particularly in moments of quiet reflection and high-stakes tension.
Signs of Life is a heartfelt, practically perfect debut that showcases Joseph Millson’s potential as a filmmaker with a knack for emotionally resonant storytelling. For those willing to embrace its indie quirks, Signs of Life posits that life’s darkest moments, whether that be Anne’s current potential danger or the broader “epidemic of heartache and depression”, can be navigated through unexpected human connections. The “outstretched hand”, as it were, underscores a message of hope. Sometimes, salvation lies in the kindness of strangers. I think above anything else this is a message that resonates beyond its 90-odd minute runtime.
