'Magpie' Review

Magpie screened at the 2024 Twin Cities Film Fest. Shout! Studios will release it in theaters on October 25.

Early on in Magpie, Annette (Daisy Ridley) feels trapped in her home in the English countryside. Her husband, Ben (Shazad Latif), is chaperoning their young actress daughter, Matilda, during a movie shoot. Playing Matilda’s on-screen mother is Alicia (Matilda Lutz), an actress who’s been involved in a number of tabloid sexcapades. Paparazzi snaps some photographs of her and Ben together on set, and Ben’s phone constantly buzzes from Alicia’s texts when he’s home. Annette stares at herself in the mirror, seeing nothing but a blank face. She presses her hands upon the glass, incrementally applying pressure until the whole thing shatters. The floor is a mess with shards, a few of them still stuck in her hands. But she doesn't seem to notice as the blood starts to drip.

This scene is emblematic of director Sam Yates’ approach to the material. A veteran stage director, most notably for 2023’s Vanya starring Andrew Scott, Yates has dabbled a few times in film with some shorts and television. Magpie marks his feature directorial debut, and the results could be the start of a promising career. Nothing about his work is flashy (“flat” would be the derogatory term), but his approach to the material builds a tightly wound atmosphere. The gloominess of the setting, both literally and emotionally, is reflected in the cinematography. Distance and uncomfortable closeness are mixed for a revolving door of claustrophobia, with quite a few of those shots being reminiscent of the POV shots that Jonathan Demme made so famous in The Silence of the Lambs.

It’s tough to distinguish between Clarice Starling and Hannibal Lecter in Annette and Ben’s relationship, an intentional blurring of the lines by screenwriter Tom Bateman. Similar to Yates, he’s making his feature screenwriting debut here, having previously appeared as an actor in Kenneth Branagh’s two initial Hercule Poirot films (he met Ridley on the set of Murder on the Orient Express) and other British productions. The idea for this story came from Ridley herself, influenced by her experience as an on-screen mother in The Marsh King’s Daughter (at least something came out of that movie).

Annette doesn’t want to jump to conclusions about Ben and Alicia’s relationship. And yet, it’s the only thing she can do as she sits at home looking after her newborn. There are hints of depression and manic behavior within her due to Ben’s past behavior. Bateman initially plants this as a potential conversation starter about the pressures of motherhood and burrowed trauma. That all gets morphed into something much more kitschy as time progresses, with late revelations making me laugh both with and at the movie. It wants to please you, even if that doesn’t please the movie as a whole.

Ridley is fierce in the lead, maintaining a steely presence that keeps you on edge. There’s both sympathy and guilty pleasure you put upon her as she grapples with her domestic situation. Latif and Lutz display great confidence in their increasingly villainous roles. The whole thing feels like a throwback, while also having its cake and eating it too about so many modern topics. It’s a delectable cake, with just a bit too much sugar added.