Daniel Day-Lewis’s Triumphant Comeback Is Undone by Anemone’s Muddled Drama

by

The line, “We do love the exquisite agony of self-denial,” surprisingly captures the essence of the film *Anemone*, starring Ronan Day-Lewis. Premiering at the New York Film Festival, the movie centers around the theme of self-denial, and even embodies it in its own making. The beautiful cinematography and the return of Daniel Day-Lewis – the director’s father and a powerfully intense actor – actually highlight the film’s stark and restrained storytelling. *Anemone* is visually stunning, filled with otherworldly landscapes, ancient forests, and shadowy beaches, which seem to emphasize the emotional repression of its characters. This contrast is likely deliberate, but unfortunately doesn’t always work. While the film is beautiful to look at, its effect weakens as the story unfolds and it feels overly long.

Daniel Day-Lewis hasn’t acted in a film for seven years, since appearing in Paul Thomas Anderson’s *Phantom Thread*. That film came five years after his previous role in Steven Spielberg’s *Lincoln*. Because it’s been so long, many people now picture him like his character in the early film *Anemone*: a quiet, secluded man living a simple life in the woods. Like that character, Ray, a former soldier, has deliberately withdrawn from society. It takes his brother, Jem (played by Sean Bean, who also hasn’t been in a movie recently), a long journey through a dense forest to find him. Ray lives in a very basic cabin and seems almost like a figure from a dark fairytale. He has an uncanny ability to sense when someone is approaching, relying on instinct rather than sight, and immediately knows it’s Jem, who unfortunately brings troubling news from the outside world.

Jem finally tracked down Ray after many years because his stepson, Brian (Ray’s teenage son with Nessa, played by Samantha Morton), is in trouble. We learn the brothers fought on the same side during the conflict in Northern Ireland, and Ray vanished while Nessa was pregnant. The film opens with Brian injured and silent, seemingly paralyzed by anger, sadness, or shock. This immediately establishes the seriousness of the situation – Jem is driven to find Ray because of Brian’s condition – but the movie deliberately withholds details to create suspense. This feels like a manipulative tactic: we experience the story through Jem’s eyes, and both he and Nessa appear to understand what happened, but the film keeps us guessing, likely to hide how weak the plot actually is.

The film *Anemone* struggles to create a compelling narrative, despite attempts to build suspense around the character of Brian. This manufactured mystery feels forced when compared to the naturally unfolding secrets of Ray’s past, which actually fit the film’s themes. While the stories of both men hint at a cycle of inherited trauma, Ray’s deeply emotional journey overshadows everything else. This is largely due to Daniel Day-Lewis’s exceptional performance. He masterfully portrays a wide range of complex emotions – anger, confusion, sadness, and self-hatred – in powerful, extended scenes. His performance is so captivating and nuanced that it dwarfs the rest of the film. These monologues will likely become iconic acting exercises, and it’s hard to imagine anyone delivering them with the same skill. The director, who co-wrote the script with his father, wisely keeps the camera focused on Day-Lewis during these moments. It’s a truly remarkable performance – simultaneously breathtaking and detrimental to the film as a whole. It’s good enough to almost save the movie from its flaws, but it also highlights them.

The main issue with *Anemone* is that despite its striking visuals and unusual storytelling, and even though stories about inherited trauma aren’t new, the film needed to be focused and impactful. Instead, it feels loose and lacks energy. It creates a tense, mysterious atmosphere, but the elaborate world it builds feels suffocating. The concept of a story built around evasion is promising, but Ronan Day-Lewis seems hesitant to embrace ambiguity. This ruins the film’s initial spell, replacing it with predictable scenes and strange, overused symbolism. It’s a significant mistake, though perhaps forgivable for a first-time director. By the end, *Anemone* leaves you feeling both overexposed and underwhelmed-you know just enough to lose interest, but not enough to really connect with the story.

Read More

2025-09-29 00:54