Daniel Day-Lewis in Ronan Day Lewis's ANEMONE (2025)

 "This is it, Jim. This is my life."

"Does it have to be?"

No pressure, Ronan Day-Lewis, you only have Daniel Day-Lewis as your dad (and co-writer) and happen to be the grandson of (checks notes) Arthur Miller, ah yes yes, that witty chestnut.

In all seriousness, watching this reminded me of the feature film I made some years ago, not because I saw a lot of similarities (you can find it on this site if you know where to dig), but because I look back and realize that if I had the decent-sized independent budget this has I absolutely would have had a needle drop not unlike when Sean Bean comes upon his self-exiled brother Daniel Day-Lewis's home in the woods and it is Black Sabbath's "Solitude" drifting along for three to four minutes. Subtle. I can empathize with you, Ronan, I would have been that blunt, too! (It actually is a good song choice, just you know... that song?)

Anemone is a fascinating collision of youthful creative ambition and late-era deepest-of-deep emotional talent that I admire more than I outright enjoyed. I have not listened or watched any interviews with the son and father (also co-writers, a first time for the screen for Daniel by the way far as I can tell), but I do wonder what level of trust and communication they have where Daniel Day friggin Lewis, an actor who works with the biggest guns in the business (and Rob Marshall lol) gives himself completely to Ronan's vision... or is it s case where DDL more or less directed himself in dramatic scenes and RDL could do whatever he wanted with the quieter scenes in Samantha Morton's home and with the vast poetic shots of nature.

That may be a cynical reading though since, again, this is a story and script from both father and son, and I also wondered if DDL was still thinking about the kinds of roles he did with Jim Sheridan back in the 1990s - it is not quite the same, but the milieu of the IRA, being away for a long time and what it means to come back, not to mention the seemingly irreparable tears in family, is not unfamiliar - and going deeper into the marrow-deep regret and pain of a history of violence and bloodshed.

The monologues that Day-Lewis gives as Ray are at times shockingly funny - or just how much that one he gives about the priest caught me off guard - and unbearably sad, and he gets to say more fucks than I can remember in this century at least, recounting his trauma and (eventually) what was considered a war crime. And Sean Bean makes for not only a capable scene partner, he is essential as a listener and one who can give it back to his brother in their tense scenes where each has their equally, warily stares and grimace.

Their scenes are almost too good and is the kind of good problem to have that Ronan Day Lewis doesn't realize he should stick with. If this film were a good half hour shorter, nay if the entire film were just the two brothers in the woods getting drunk, having blistering confessions and recriminations and the occasional giant dance, it might really be something special. But the story keeps going back to the mom and son, and (the immense talent and full aching presence of Samantha Morton notwithstanding) it drags the film down. It becomes redundant seeing the son being morose and confused and they rehash the same things that we are already aware of with the Starker brothers. And frankly the actor playing the son just doesn't cut it among the other players here.

And on top of those suburban scenes being a drag, the more surrealistic scenes are hit or miss. Sometimes there is an arresting image like that sea creature in the lake, but other times it feels more stock dream stuff like the woman appearing to Ray at his bed (yawn). There is an eye here and for a certain poetic flourishing that makes it more unique than if a journeyman made this. 

But ultimately Anemone is a victim of its own ambitions; ironically if you can someone like on the level of oh Ingmar Bergman from the late 60s or early 70s was making this, it would be stripped down and tremendous. As it stands, it is remarkable as it is over-stuffed with meandering bits and minutae.

And yet - and yet - this is one of those times I still say you should see this film if you do have even a casual interest in the lead actor(s) or heavy-duty THEATRICAL film acting in general because you do get an up close and personal view of just how fucking great they can be. It doesn't excuse its flaws, but... this is it, Jim.