Anemone

Three-time Oscar-winning method actor (and occasional shoemaker) Daniel Day-Lewis returns from his eight-year "retirement" in Anemone, a gritty human drama directed by his son Ronan Day-Lewis. With the father-son duo sharing writing duties, Anemone follows disgruntled British army veteran Ray (Day-Lewis) as he has to confront his violent past when his estranged brother Jem (Sean Bean) reunites.

A heavily unsettling family reunion supported by Daniel Day-Lewis's piercing gaze and booming voice. Much like his Oscar-winning Americana epic, There Will Be Blood, Daniel Day-Lewis hardly gets any speaking parts in Anemone for the first twenty minutes or so. Debutant director Ronan, who is otherwise a painter and visual artist, instead uses his runtime to lay the foundation of the grim, desolate cabin that houses Ray, a soulless husk of a man who left his family after an unexplained traumatic incident. Wrinkled and frowney, Ray functions like clockwork; he chops down timber every morning, followed by a run in the woods, a diet of canned food, and then calling it a night in his beatdown shack. His austere existence is interrupted when his brother shows up, and that's when the words start dripping out and Day-Lewis evokes a reprise of There Will Be Blood's Daniel Plainview. The veteran actor might have ditched his "milkshake-drenched" jet-black moustache for a graying handlebar, but he retains that wretched oil capitalist's intense gaze and commanding charisma. When Day-Lewis's Ray starts peeling down his own layers, from childhood abuse to PTSD from the Irish Troubles, you're compelled to look Ray in the eye and hear his every word, no matter how disturbingly graphic, sexual, and even "rectal" he can get in his monologues. The rest of Anemone has moments of eerie silences and uncomfortable brotherly banter, but Day-Lewis's magnetic delivery serves as the film's greatest strength.

As Day-Lewis screams, Bean listens. Sean Bean is also terrific as Jem, an ex-soldier who chose to find God after his service, unlike his church-condemning, liquor-guzzling older sibling. When Day-Lewis erupts into his intimidating outbursts, the Game of Thrones star's calm composure and introspective musing add an amusing contrast to steer the drama forward. A subplot involving Jem's wife (Samantha Morton brilliantly shining with the limited screentime she gets) and son Brian (underused for just teenage angst tropes) briefly builds interest. Still, it's Ray's slow-burning revelation of his inner demons that keeps one invested till the very end.

It's convoluted in its visual language, but it has enough ambiance to keep you hooked. Overshadowed by its leading man's repulsive charm, Anemone still tries to rise above just being a Daniel Day-Lewis acting showcase. In first-timer Ronan's defense, the New York artist does a fine-enough job in painting the world of Anemone as a mythical purgatory from a Greek tragedy. Indeed, some magical realist elements like gigantic beasts and Biblical hailstorms can be off-putting or artistically vague for some audiences. Though in terms of sheer ambition, Anemone tries to match its central performer's magnetism and intrigue. A rousing synth-driven electronic score by Ari Aster regular Bobby Krilic (Midsommar, Eddington) keeps the tempo running throughout. At the same time, Ben Fordesman's panoramic nature shots ensure Anemone is a multi-sensory experience when Day-Lewis isn't chewing up the scenery. Much like its morally grey protagonist, Anemone takes time to make sense; even if it doesn't, it's hard to take your eyes away.