Michael J. Long's Heartbreaking Directorial Debut

Little brother, set in Liverpool, is not an easy watch for a number of reasons. Firmly in the tradition of the British kitchen-sink realist movement, the gritty drama features copious amounts of brutality of both an emotional and physical kind. It is also demanding of the audience in its narrative, depicting two separate days years apart and alternating between black and white for the past and colour for the present.

The results, predictably, are sometimes disjointed. But Michael J. Long's directorial debut displays a stylistic audacity rare in a first-time filmmaker, and there's no denying the raw power of this harrowing film, which will receive its world premiere at the Oldenburg Film Festival.

The story revolves around the relationship between Adam (Paddy Rowan) and his younger brother Liam (Brian Comer), who don't exactly enjoy the benefits of a happy family life. Their mother (Julia Ross), who struggles with drug and alcohol addiction, is the type to yell “Get a job or get out!” at Adam when he drinks. Their stepfather is violently abusive, at one point holding a kitchen knife to her throat in front of his children.

The brothers, however, enjoy a close relationship, their penchant for mischief being depicted in a very funny scene where they sneak into a theater during a rehearsal and engage in mocking and pretentious banter while analyzing the performances. Adam is deeply protective of Liam, who dreams of becoming a professional fighter. And he works hard to earn extra money to make up for his mother's drug spending, even mowing an elderly neighbor's lawn. But he is ultimately unable to avoid sinking into violence and addiction due to his troubled environment, ultimately paying a high price for it.

Five years later, Adam returns to visit his brother, who now has a very pregnant girlfriend (Kathryn McGurk). “Liam's told me all about you,” he says coldly upon their first meeting. “Good things, I hope,” Adam replies hopefully. “Not really,” she counters. One of the most disturbing episodes involves the sudden reappearance of an old childhood friend (a terrifying AJ Jones), whose bald head sports a massive, bloody gash. It quickly becomes clear that Adam's efforts to protect his brother have failed, with Liam having relapsed into the same problematic behavior as him.

The director, working from a script he co-wrote with Tom Sidney, offers a searing portrait of the kind of generational trauma that’s all too common when financial hardship is added to the mix. Despite the constraints of an obviously low budget, the film looks gorgeous, thanks to David Short’s versatile cinematography that proves equally stunning in black-and-white and color.

Both lead actors are superb, especially in their deft depictions of the ways their characters have changed or not changed over the five-year span. Rowan is particularly haunting in the contemporary scenes, displaying the pathos of a man who has realized his inability to control his own or his brother's fate. Little brother It ends on an ambiguous note, but only the most optimistic viewers will see a bright future for these figures beaten down by life, both literally and figuratively.