Film Review - Sorry We Missed You

There was no way I was going to miss this, especially given the contextual knowledge I had gained since seeing I, Daniel Blake for the first time, which included watching his 1966 fictionalised documentary Cathy Come Home. And if you’re expecting another film that falls into that category, you might wind up a little bit disappointed with Sorry We Missed You. Making the easy comparison to I, Daniel Blake, a film which sought to expose the corruptness of the systems, this film is more grounded in a narrative focused more on the personal implications of those systems. It goes without saying that both of those things are relevant to both films, but you can tell that the weighting has slightly shifted since I, Daniel Blake. 

As a result, I didn’t find Sorry We Missed You quite as politically cutting with how the emphasis is placed on the personal narrative as oppose to the politics, but Ken Loach has done it again with another moving story chronicling the inherent flaws with the world around us, that can sometimes be uncomfortable to engage with. But that’s the thing. It might be uncomfortable, sure, but when you present it as plainly and honestly as Ken Loach does, it demands to be taken seriously, and the film is all the better for it. 

We follow a couple with two children who had been severely affected by the economic crash in 2008 (and that political context, however subtle it might be, does weigh hard on the film) that are constantly jumping from place to place trying to find any security they can, with Ricky (Kris Hitchen) working as a delivery driver and Abbie (Debbie Honeywood) working as a carer for several different clients. The conflict comes with them having to juggle those immense responsibilities and huge working hours with two children who have clearly been significantly affected by the whole situation: Sebastian (Rhys Stone) and his younger sister Lisa Jane (Katie Proctor). 

And it’s Sebastian’s ways of dealing with the whole situation that anchors the personal narrative, especially when, considering how hard the family has to work, there is no one making sure that he even goes to school or looks after himself. And that's where the problem stems from. He is struggling emotionally with his best friend leaving him (and, if I were to criticize, I do wish the two of them were given a bit more intimate screen time together to show a bit more chemistry), he channels his frustrations into doing graffiti, and other things his parents don’t approve of. A gripping reminder that the world is not as empathetic a place as it might seem to us. Not for them, at least. 

These contradictions create panic and that panic escalates into drama, but what I adore about this film and pushes it solidly into greatness for me is how the possibility of things getting better at the end and reaching that happy ever after is captured in the subtleties of the writing. Every now and again Ricky will suggest that everything will be alright in a few months or a year's time, as if the light in the tunnel is getting closer, even as it seems to dim before his very eyes to everyone watching from the outside, to the extent that, by the end, it seems like a desperate hope indeed. 

But the ending is what makes it. Something I’ve observed about ambitious filmmakers is that they seem committed to presenting the audience with total closure by the end of their film, completely unwilling to challenge their audience in the same way Ken Loach is clearly committed to. As such, the unsettling close up of the side of Ricky’s face as he drives away, his world crushing beneath him as he comes to terms with the decision he has made hits with tremendous impact. Furthermore, the suggestion of death in the text and subtext as the film makes its final fade to black makes the ending hit with the kind of chilling, frightening precision as you watch a man in what might end up being the final moments of his life succumb to the choices he has made. 

In many ways it is similar to the ending of I, Daniel Blake, but instead of crying out for change like Dan did at the end of that film, by the end of Sorry We Missed You, Ricky is left broken; desperately hoping that things could change for the better, but also knowing from experience that it takes a whole lot more than just hope. 

To conclude this, and however much I don’t feel like I’m adding an awful lot to the conversation, the film is great. I don’t think it was quite as ruthless and blunt in highlighting the political injustice as I, Daniel Blake was before it, but trading that out for a personal narrative was refreshing enough to comfortably push this film into greatness. Definitely take the time to chance to check this out.

8 / 10