Littermates

Set against the backdrop of a mysterious conflict, Littermates introduces us to Chester (Oliver Woolf), a man living in an isolated cottage in the English countryside, apparently providing a safe haven from whatever dangers might be lurking beyond his property.

When an injured and disorientated young man arrives, seemingly unable to communicate effectively, remember much about himself or even understand some of the simplest aspects of everyday life, Chester takes him in and begins caring for him.

The young man becomes known as Liam (Joey Bader), and before long, another similarly bewildered survivor, Mel (Kaylee McGregor), joins their rather unusual household.

What follows is a decidedly peculiar domestic arrangement, with Chester assuming something resembling a parental role towards the other two, despite both being adults.

And I’d say that peculiar is probably putting it mildly!

Chester has established a collection of rules and routines, with good behaviour rewarded by tokens known as ‘nifties’. These nifties can then be exchanged for various treats and activities, including karaoke, dance parties and even time in the hot tub.

Why not? I ask myself. If the world outside is falling apart, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t enjoy an indulgent dip in a hot tub or an occasional singalong, regardless of how painful the vocals might be!

Lying beneath these oddities, however, is what makes Littermates interesting and keeps your attention. The relationship between these three characters, particularly the almost childlike behaviour of Liam and Mel, had me frowning at times, but mainly because I wanted to know WHY they were behaving in this way.

Their conversations, disagreements and occasional squabbles frequently resemble those of two young children rather than adults, while Chester attempts to maintain order with the patience and authority of a father dealing with a couple of unruly youngsters.

However, rather than becoming irritating or unintentionally ridiculous, the behaviour somehow feels believable within the unusual circumstances the filmmakers have established.

And much of the credit for that must go to the performances. Oliver Woolf is convincing as Chester, balancing his apparently caring nature with the authority he exercises over his two companions. Joey Bader and Kaylee McGregor are equally effective as Liam and Mel, managing to convey their innocence, confusion and sometimes rather amusing rivalry without making the characters feel like exaggerated caricatures.

It’s a difficult balance to achieve, particularly when adults are required to behave in such a childlike fashion, but the three actors pull it off, and they work well together.

There’s also a subtle sense of humour running throughout the film, much of it arising naturally from the characters’ peculiar understanding of everyday situations.

One particularly amusing moment that had me chuckling involves a tennis court and a decidedly unconventional game of tennis. I won’t explain the circumstances, but it neatly sums up the film’s odd approach to humour.

Visually, Littermates is also a well-made production. The English countryside provides an attractive setting, with the peaceful surroundings contrasting nicely with something considerably more threatening taking place beyond the confines of Chester’s property.

The cinematography is consistently good, making effective use of both the rural landscape and the relatively confined domestic environment.

As for the story itself, the film takes a fairly measured approach for much of its running time, concentrating primarily on the relationships between its central characters rather than attempting to deliver constant action or suspense.

And while that might not appeal to everyone, I found the unusual situation strangely compelling.

Throughout the film, there’s an underlying sense that all is not quite as it seems, and as events progress, we gradually begin to understand more about the circumstances surrounding these characters and their peculiar behaviour.

Things do eventually become more dramatic, with a welcome increase in pace during the latter stages. These sequences are well handled, although I wouldn’t describe them as particularly tense or frightening.

But then, Littermates isn’t really the sort of film that relies on conventional horror scares to maintain your interest.

Its appeal lies more in the unusual relationships, the understated humour and the gradual revelations about the world these characters inhabit. And what I enjoyed was the fact that Littermates maintains that rather peculiar tone throughout, even as events become considerably more serious.

The conclusion also provides a slightly poignant moment, although thankfully without resorting to excessive sentimentality.

I won’t reveal what happens, but there’s a simple visual touch towards the end that quietly reinforces the strange bond that has developed between these three individuals.

Ultimately, Littermates is a film that I found compelling in a very odd way.

It’s well acted, attractively photographed and confidently put together, with a story that manages to be amusing, at times puzzling, a little unsettling and occasionally rather touching without ever becoming particularly conventional.

Anyone sitting down to watch and expecting a fast-paced thriller or a succession of frightening moments may find themselves slightly disappointed.

But if you’re prepared to embrace its unusual premise and distinctly eccentric characters, there’s a surprisingly engaging film to be found here. And certainly one that kept me invested, interested and entertained throughout.