The Plains (2023)

Trying to sell David Easteal's new film, a three-hour art-house piece set almost entirely in a car, isn't the simplest thing to do. And yet it's easily one of the years' best films, as we travel with Andrew, a middle-aged man working a white-collar job on his lengthy daily commute home. Again, the set up sounds mundane to a potentially naval gazing extent, but what unfurls is a look at life's everyday trials and tribulations; work, family, relationships, as Andrew makes daily phone calls to his wife Cheri and his ailing Mum who lives in a retirement home and has dementia.

Occasionally joined on his commute by a colleague (Easteal himself) we travel through the seasons (easily spotted by the dying of the light at the times Andrew leaves work) and familiarise ourselves with the journey, especially the opening sequence of roads leaving Andrew's work. His wife Cheri is someone we hear about mostly, but briefly see in drone shots that are placed throughout the film, which add spectacular intervals in taking you out of the car and flying over the plains the title invokes.

It's easy to be reminded of Locke (2013), the film starring Tom Hardy in a car for ninety minutes on the phone, but Locke is much closer in tone to Phone Booth (2002) than it is to Easteal's film, which plays much more like a docu-drama than anything else.

The constant sound of the journey becomes soothing, almost meditational, as does the rapport between Andrew and his colleague, building to a wonderful few minutes near the films' conclusion where they play Suicide's 'Cheree' on the car's speaker system, which connotes a number of things that have been discussed throughout the film.

The Plains is original and captivating, and while it might not be for everyone, this is experimental film at its finest. 8.0/10