In 2016, Alice Lowe, already an acclaimed presence in UK film and television, burst onto the international scene with her directorial debut Prevenge, which she also starred in as a heavily pregnant woman driven to homicidal rage by the fetus. Eight years later, she’s back behind the camera with Timestalker, another genre exercise which will do well among fans of the actress-director and at festivals with a penchant for dark comedy (including Locarno, where the movie screened in Piazza Grande).
Lowe plays Agnes, a woman we first meet in Scotland in 1688. She’s witnessing an execution and falls head over heels in love with the convict, who manages to escape. It doesn’t go too well for her, though, as she accidentally – and gruesomely – dies, only to wake up a century later, in 1793. Each time she reincarnates, she falls in love with the same man again, and the cycle keeps repeating across time, all the way to the 22nd century.
Besides her and her unrequited love, played by Welsh actor Aneurin Barnard, constants in each era include a person dispensing advice, portrayed by Jacob Anderson, a female confidant (Tanya Reynolds) and the unpleasant, villainous George (Nick Frost), whose animalistic traits are highlighted by the fact he’s actually a dog (with Frost supplying the barking) in the first segment.
Love in its unhappiest form is at the center of Timestalker, which is visibly more ambitious than Prevenge’s deliberately low-budget production value (among other things, Lowe was really pregnant while filming the latter). But what it has gained in aesthetics it has slightly lost in terms of energy: even accounting for the difference in genre and intent, Lowe’s debut had an almost deranged momentum that her sophomore effort can’t match, not least because of its more episodic nature.
The first two segments are the best, as everyone involved clearly enjoys lampooning the stylings of those eras, almost like a gorier Monty Python sketch or Blackadder episode. Frost, in particular, is a joy to behold in the 1793 stretch, as he gets to sink his teeth into some truly despicable villain material, far removed from the schlubby persona that put him on the map in Shaun of the Dead two decades ago. Reynolds also puts her distinctive features and somewhat neurotic acting style to good use in those scenes, and Lowe embodies each incarnation of Agnes with gusto.
Barnard is stuck with the seemingly thankless task of playing the love interest, but it is a testament to his performance that, even before the movie explicitly spells out its point, he has perfectly conveyed the notion that Alex is not prime boyfriend material, but rather just a bland pretty face (unsurprisingly, when the action moves to the 1980s, he’s a teen idol musician).
Together, they all succeed where the film itself occasionally falters, as the narrative loses a bit of steam the further it gets from the somewhat distant past (despite the brief promise of less linear time jumps, which might have provided more lively and unpredictable pacing). It’s a second film that tries too hard, but does so in a manner so charming, be it for the performances or cinematographer Ryan Eddleston’s exquisite aping of different time periods’ lighting, it is hard to not want to tag along for the ride. Because when it really delivers, it’s as darkly humorous as the opening gleefully suggests, joyously upending rom-com clichés one bodily injury at a time.
Director & Screenwriter: Alice Lowe
Cast: Alice Lowe, Jacob Anderson, Aneurin Barnard, Tanya Reynolds, Nick Frost
Producers: Vaughan Sivell, Mark Hopkins, Natan Stoessel, Tom Wood
Cinematography: Ryan Eddleston
Production design: Felicity Hickson
Music: TOYDRUM
Sound: Martin Pavey
Production companies: Western Edge Pictures, Popcorn Group
World sales: HanWay Films
Venue: Locarno Film Festival (Piazza Grande)
In English
89 minutes
