The prestigious Cannes Film Festival continues to prove year after year that it is a safe and exciting space for an eclectic assortment of art. The 2021 edition featured a number of bold projects, such as Justin Kurzel’s psychological drama Nitram, which stars Best Actor winner Caleb Landry Jones, Leos Carax’s music-infused and first English-language film Annette with Adam Driver and Marion Cotillard, and Julia Ducournau’s understandably headline-grabbing body-horror film Titane, which was that year’s winner of the Palme d’Or. Cannes has clearly accrued a reputation for showcasing provocative and intense forms of storytelling. But not all of Cannes’ selections have to have an edge or controversy linked to them. Sometimes, it’s the charming and benign films that pack the most powerful punch to the audience. This is surely the case with Ali & Ava, a romantic drama from Clio Barnard that examines loneliness and uncertainty through a heartfelt and realistic lens.
Ali & Ava, which was nominated for a BAFTA for Outstanding British Film of the Year, was written and directed by Barnard, who first made a splash as a director with her 2010 film The Arbor, a documentary drama hybrid about Bradford, England playwright Andrea Dunbar which earned her a BAFTA nomination for Outstanding Debut. She followed this successful debut with The Selfish Giant, which, like Ali & Ava, was nominated for a BAFTA and premiered in the Director’s Fortnight section of Cannes.
It’s Barnard’s experience working on The Arbor and The Selfish Giant that sparked the idea for her latest project. Ali & Ava follows the parallel lives of Ali (Adeel Akhtar), a plucky, music-loving landlord in the humble city of Bradford whose marriage has frayed, and Ava (Claire Rushbrook) a nurturing teacher’s assistant and single mother recovering from an abusive marriage. Their paths intersect when Ali picks up his tenant’s shy young daughter Sofia (Ariana Bodorova) from school, where Ava happens to be one of Sofia’s teachers. It’s a typical rainy day in England, and Ali, being the kind fellow that he is, offers Ava, who he watches severely struggling with her uncooperative umbrella, a ride home. Ava’s knee-jerk reaction is to politely decline the generous offer, but thanks to Ali’s enthusiasm and encouragement, she accepts.
As mentioned, Barnard got the idea for the characters of Ali and Ava while working on her previous films. Moey Hassan, a Bradford actor as well as a landlord and DJ, worked with Barnard on The Arbor. Then a few years later in The Selfish Giant, she met a woman named Rio, a teacher’s assistant at a school in Bradford. Even though they didn’t realize it, Moey and Rio, along with script consultant and Bradford-based writer Kamal Kaan, were the foundation and inspiration for the titular characters. Barnard doesn’t shy away from research and dedication in her creative development, and it shows. Ali and Ava are two multidimensional characters trying their best to heal, and despite being surrounded by their respective families, who aren’t afraid to remind them of their imperfect and messy lives, are chronically lonely. Until meeting, neither of them have ever felt compelled or comfortable enough to confide in anyone about their struggles.
Both characters (as everyone is to a certain degree) are broken, but you’d never realize it. Ava lives in Holme Wood, a more undeveloped neighborhood where many taxis refuse to enter, especially at night. Akhtar brings a quick wit and innocence to Ali without being naive which Ava finds particularly comforting. Rather than downplaying Holme Wood’s unfavorability, he humorously confronts the reputation it has head-on. “Shit, I’m gonna get pelted with stones there, aren’t I?” he asks her, to which she responds with a chuckle, “Probably, yeah.” (Spoiler alert: They do).
The proceeding car ride oozes chemistry between the leads without falling prey to any romance tropes. In fact, it feels a bit weird to describe this movie as a romance because Barnard smartly doesn’t force the “romance” element on the audience. Sure, there’s some flirting baked into Ali’s delivery, but they are simply two mature adults who enjoy each other’s company. The connection between Ali and Ava is undeniable and organic, and the performances speak for themselves. Watching their interactions feels less like you are watching a movie and more like you are eavesdropping on long-time friends, a feat that many actors fail to successfully pull off.
Ali’s delight when he hears a song from the rock band Buzzcocks on the radio triggers a wholesome and amusing conversation about music, something that’s important to both the characters and the movie itself. When Ava outs herself as a country music fan, Ali jokingly says he’ll have to pull over and drop her off on the street. This playful banter slowly peels back the layers that have made them into the people they are today. Ali used to be a DJ, Ava used to frequent pubs with her father, who was a singer. Now, they’re both living much more tame lives: Ali a landlord and Ava a teacher’s assistant whose adult children still live with her.
After the lovely ride home, Ali’s promptly reminded of his not-so-ideal circumstances. He begs his wife to not lead on about their separation so as to not stir up the family dynamic, and in an attempt to forget these worries, waits at Ava’s for her to arrive home. Ava is thrilled to see that Ali made the trek to her neck of the woods, and they immediately fall back into the comfortable rapport that they so effortlessly formed. Ali teases Ava’s living arrangements (the family room being littered with her grandkids’ toys and the couches joined together to form a “sofa boat”) and jumps aboard the makeshift ship to jam out to the music in his headphones. Ava’s both surprised and delighted to see how unreserved he is, and eventually joins him on the couch creation. The pair sing off-key without a care in the world (to the two different songs in their headphones) like two teenagers actively avoiding homework. In a parent-child role reversal, Ava’s adult son Callum (Shaun Thomas), weary of the new man in his mother’s life, interrupts their dance party with a pretend sword. It’s perhaps the most joyful scene in the film, which is brimming with similarly cheerful moments.
Barnard smoothly dovetails the lighter moments with the dark and makes sure to not skirt the traumatic moments in Ali and Ava’s marriages. Akhtar and Rushbrook handle these intense character revelations like pros, never feeling the need to veer into melodrama. That, coupled with the way both characters embrace the little pleasures that come their way instead of dwelling in the negative, makes Ali & Ava a consistently enjoyable and compelling watch, and the duo’s inevitable romantic involvement all the more rewarding.
Rating: A-
Ali & Ava opens in New York on July 29th, followed by a wider release on August 5th.