Light Years most resembles one of those quirky family dramedies that used to come out of Sundance with alarming regularity, buoyed by the success of 2006's Little Miss Sunshine. The family have their obligatory eccentricities. The middle child Ewan considers himself a 'mole', obsessively takes notes on his bowel movements and has visions of an old man with long hair and stripped to the waist running towards him, like an athletic version of Old Father Time. The eldest, troublesome teenager Ramona is in love with a blond haired boy, with whom she briefly gets it on. Ramona inexplicably falls over all the time. Does she have vertigo, or just an inability to walk? It remains unclear.
Rose is the most normal but even she has a pet rat. A little boy with a hearing aid rides his bicycle through the woods, shouting and hooting, and claiming to be in love with Rose. He disappears from the film after a while. Overburdened with these novelistic idiosyncrasies, there is a danger that they get in the way of character and strain credibility. The children don't speak like children: they speak in script. Especially Rose who also provides too much voice-over, explaining her siblings various weirdness. Neither do they really behave like children, each with a tendency to sprawl on the ground. The young cast members move around their world largely unnoticed by adults, which facilitates Rose taking her mum out of the home. When they finally catch up with Rose and their mother, they head to the beach.
Cinematographers Zac Nicholson and Will Pugh have a good eye for the English countryside: the changing light, the hedgerows and the woods, obviously, but also the bus stops, car parks and industrial estates. The indie-inspired soundtrack by Eric Chenaux jangles with guitars both folksy and electric. With the reunited family stronger, they are finally ready to accept that a happy ending is unobtainable. Though Light Years' narrative sticks to a well-trodden path, there is some promise for the future.
John Bleasdale | @drjonty