Dragonfly review: Brenda Blethyn is at her very best in frequently heartbreaking film

Two actors, among the very best of their respective generations, come together for Dragonfly, a bleak but captivating study of loneliness and social care set in contemporary Britain.

Brenda Blethyn plays Elsie, an ageing pensioner who lives in a semi-detached bungalow. Elsie has been a widow for 13 years and has one son, John (Jason Watkins), who rarely visits. The only people she regularly sees are the carousel of care workers who bustle in to wash her and fix her tea before scooting off to their next appointment.

Next door is Coleen (Andrea Riseborough). She lives alone with her bullish-looking dog, an animal she loves dearly but barely has control over. Her hair scraped back, her skin is pale and, despite her protests to the contrary, she looks far older than her 35 years.

Living on benefits, she slouches on the sofa all day watching TV, sinking into a malaise. But gradually, she finds company when she offers to buy provisions for Elsie from the corner shop. From this little acorn, an oak tree of friendship grows, as these two lost souls find solace together.

Writing and directing is British filmmaker Paul Andrew Williams, who adds yet another intriguing addition to his body-of-work, one that kickstarted with the visceral London to Brighton almost two decades ago.

Williams errs on the darker side in his films, as his last movie, the 2021 hallucinatory revenge tale Bull shows, and Dragonfly is no different. The companionship that Elsie and Coleen conjure is destined to take a disturbing twist, although it’s likely you won’t see it coming until it’s too late.

The film toys with social realism, albeit on Williams’s terms. The low-key electronic score by Raffertie, who previously scored Oscar-nominated horror The Substance, occasionally punctuates unsettling shots of Elsie’s home, empty hallways and so on that suggest how little she has left in her life.

Shooting in natural light, there’s a gloom that envelops this film, made more poignant when Elsie suddenly cries out at one of her care workers, “What’s my name? You don’t know, do you?” Casually, this is a portrait of Britain at breaking point. A busted flush.

Opening with shots of a depressed-looking British town centre (it was filmed in West Yorkshire), Williams never patronises his characters, or the positions they are in.

Despite the bleakness, he mines a strain of gentle humour, notably when Coleen buys a walkie talkie set so the two can chat. Needless to say, Elsie struggles with the buttons. “I can hear you better through the door,” she wails, amusingly. But, as funny as this is, those rudimentary communication devices take on a more poignant meaning later in the film.

Blethyn arguably hasn’t had a role this good since Mike Leigh’s 1995 Cannes-winning Secrets & Lies, although any comparisons to Leigh should be dismissed. Williams’s approach has sharper teeth than Leigh’s domestic portraits, as good as they are.

Riseborough, meanwhile, is at her chameleonic best here. It’s remarkable that two decades into her career, one that’s seen her work frequently in Hollywood, she’s still almost unrecognisable from role to role.

Here, she sinks right into Coleen, a woman who has suffered a painful existence, living on government hand-outs, her mental health hitting the red zone. Williams handles her with care for the most part, although one shot of her face pressed against Elsie’s door feels overcooked.

She and Blethyn have been nominated at the forthcoming British Independent Film Awards for Best Joint Performance, and it feels an entirely apt choice. They play off each other brilliantly, the centrepiece in this highly astute and frequently heartbreaking film.

Dragonfly is in UK cinemas from Friday 7th November 2025.

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