Far From the Apple Tree (2019)

A version of this review first appeared on a (sadly now defunct!) website called Horrified Magazine, which I used to write for. To save the text from oblivion, I’m reposting it here.

On top of his work as a digital imaging technician, Scottish director Grant McPhee has carved out a niche as ‘one of the most interesting film-makers in Britain today’. His documentary about the post-punk scene in Edinburgh – a ninety-minute labour of love called Big Gold Dream (2015) – had its world première at the Edinburgh Film Festival, where it won the 2015 Audience Award. He’s also found enough time and energy to make three narrative features, which won prizes of their own at various festivals.

The latest of these is Far from the Apple Tree (2019): a dazzling film which the director has described as a ‘Pop-Art fairytale’. The story begins when budding artist Judith (Sorcha Groundsell) is invited to move in with her hero, the renowned avant-gardist Roberta Roslyn, to help catalogue her video archive. In return, Roberta (Victoria Liddelle) will arrange for Judith to give her first solo show.

Judith soon learns that Roberta has a daughter, Maddy, whose absence is shrouded in mystery. According to Roberta, they’re simply estranged, but a friend from home – heard by Judith in fits and bursts because the phone reception is so bad – thinks that there might be more to it than that. In either case, Maddy turns out to be the spitting image of Judith – or should that be the other way round? – when she appears in her mother’s old art films.

Judith is entranced by her doppelgänger and diligently annotates the old footage. Maddy walks through corridor; Maddy plays piano; Maddy upset with people watching her. Soon, as a private experiment, she starts to imitate her glamorous double. At the same time, Roberta – sometimes maternal and sometimes scathing – pours fuel on the fire of Judith’s growing obsession.

The film is almost (not quite) a two-hander, and the presentation is coloured by the fact that both women are visual artists. From the footage shown, we guess that Roberta’s films are projected on the walls of art galleries, where passers-by can marvel at them in sequence. Watching Far from the Apple Tree is sometimes a similar experience. The meat of the story is a conventional horror, written by Ben Soper, but McPhee layers it throughout with art footage. We shift between formats and filters, left to decide which of the scenes are Roberta’s archive material and which are meant to convey a state of mind. It’s important to remember that Judith is also an artist, which means she sees the world with an artist’s eye; when she travels to Roberta’s house for the first time, her view of the journey is highly stylised. She spends her days watching endless snippets of unfinished art films, and her nights are filled with equally strange dreams. During the movie’s run time – especially towards the end – we frequently wonder how literal the film is being, in terms of what it shows us. Of course, that’s a key part of its appeal. According to reviewer Jennie Kermode, ‘the film sometimes shifts format, keeping us conscious of its own illusory nature… Quick cuts connect material from different parts of this fictional universe, across time and space, in a way that blatantly suggests the subliminal, playing with contradictions. It’s also dazzlingly beautiful, all the way through.’

In addition to the distinctive visuals, the film has a first-rate soundtrack, courtesy of Rose McDowall. Her shimmering folk songs are enchanting and unsettling in equal measure. In terms of the interplay between what we see and what we hear, the film’s crowning achievement is the final scene, where, after ninety minutes of eerie meandering, both resolve into a beautiful and terrifying crescendo, fulfilling the promise of the film’s slow burn. The ending is signposted too clearly to count as a ‘twist’, but you should certainly be surprised (and probably dazzled) by the execution. In short, it’s a triumph. Groundsell, too, deserves high praise for the performance at the centre of the film; she’s completely believable at all stages of Judith’s journey and covers a surprising amount of ground by the time the credits roll. Based on the strength of this acting, we’re sure to see a lot of her in future.

To sum up, Far From the Apple Tree is a unique, often mesmerising, always interesting narrative feature. The film won’t (and can’t) be for everyone, because of the amount of time and space given to texture, but that’s a creative choice. Far from the Apple Tree succeeds in doing exactly what it set out to do – especially in the stunning finale – and, for such a singular film, the remainder will be down to personal taste. Those who like it will probably love it. From my point of view, it’s a dreamlike tour de force with an excellent lead performance, and I don’t hesitate to recommend it.

---

About the author

My name is Ellis. When I’m not reviewing movies, I write short stories about ghosts.