‘Learning to Breathe Under Water’ Review: Rory Kinnear Shines in an Uneven Comedy-Drama About Father-Son Grief
According to CinemaDrame News Agency, film critic Olivia Parker writes in an exclusive review that the feature film Learning to Breathe Under Water, directed by Rebekah Fortune and starring Rory Kinnear, Maria Bakalova, and Ezra Carlisle—which celebrated its world premiere at the Karlovy Vary International Film Festival and was also screened at the Galway Film Fleadh—is an uneven yet poetic and emotionally rich exploration of grief and confronting the loss of loved ones.
The film’s premise is inspired by the famous shark sculpture installed in 1986 on the roof of a house in Headington, England; a concept that in this film crosses the Irish Sea to depict another dimension of the absurdity of death. The story follows a grieving artist named Peter (played by Rory Kinnear) who, following the sudden death of his wife, installs a massive metal sculpture of a predatory shark on the roof of his house—its body protruding directly through the ceiling of his serious young son Leo’s (played by Ezra Carlisle) bedroom. The arrival of a Bulgarian nanny named Anya (played by Maria Bakalova) into this eccentric household steers the narrative toward transformation, confronting grief, and embracing a new reality.
The screenplay, marking the feature debut of writer Richard Brabin, contains subtle humor and witty dialogue in its first half—much of it delivered by Leo, a young boy whose strictly literal interpretation of the world around him and unique stress responses suggest undiagnosed neurodivergence. Additionally, the use of short stop-motion animated sequences to illustrate Leo’s inner mind lends a whimsical touch reminiscent of the early works of Paul King (director of Paddington).
However, the film suffers a severe drop in momentum during its second half as its fantastical elements subside. The introduction of a contrived conflict between Peter and Anya that leads to her departure pushes the story into melodrama, signaling an imbalance in tone and a script in need of further refining.
Despite these flaws, the film’s undeniable highlight is Rory Kinnear’s brilliant performance. He masterfully shifts his character’s initial comedic restraint into a subtle, poignant depiction of suppressed, suffocating pain. A scene where he sits at his late wife’s piano, weeping silently, stands out as one of the film’s most emotionally charged moments, proving Kinnear’s compelling capability as a leading man. Furthermore, Maeve Davies’s production design intelligently uses color and cluttered domestic spaces to vividly express Peter’s chaotic state of mind, blurring the line between an artistic home and pure disorder.
