Part two of our Glasgow Film Festival round-up takes in another three of the films competing in the Audience Award category for debut or second-time directors. In this instalment we have a a young girl attempting to track down her estranged mother, a comedy set in the newly reunified Germany, and a women being dragged into sleep depravation by a nightmare neighbour. 

A well-intentioned lie of omission has a huge effect on the eight-year-old protagonist of the beautiful Neon Dreaming (Marie-Claire Marcotte/ Canada/ 2024/ 84 mins). Billie (a mercurial, spirited Maélya Boyd) can’t remember her mother, who has been absent since she was small. All she knows is that her name is Geneviève and a photo of a ballet dancer, whom Billie’s grandmother Marthe (Geneviève Langlois) has allowed her granddaughter to believe is her mother. When a furious Billie learns the truth, she sets out to find her mother.

Marie-Claire Marcotte’s spellbinding debut achieves a similar feat to that of Céline Sciamma‘s Petite Maman a few years ago. It swaddles the viewer in a child’s view of the world as they’re slowly introduced to the bewildering, arcane complexities of adult life. It simultaneously allows us to remember that innocence – and Boyd’s scenes of unvarnished joy with Maïna Rose Caméus as her bestie Sherry are as natural and buoyant as those in Sciamma’s film – and also to recall how it was lost. Marcotte slings her camera low, almost Ozu-like in place, to punctuate this perspective.

While some of the visual touches feel superfluous – the metaphorical point made by Billie’s magically glowing, multi-coloured bracelet isn’t clear for example – there is little not to fall for in Neon Dreaming. The slight runtime contains incredible depths and character beats that you feel will requiring teasing out over a few further viewings. The ending may also be the most charming and honestly realised tearjerker since Colm Bairéad‘s The Quiet Girl. 4/5

The excellent Sandra Hüller is the main reason to watch scattergun German comedy Two to One (Natja Brunckhorst/ Germany/ 2024/ 116 mins), which otherwise lacks a consistent comedic tone and a lack of real stakes. It’s the new and reunified Germany in 1990 and Maren (Hüller), her partner Robert (Max Riemelt), and former lover Volker (Ronald Zehrfeld) find a trove of apparently now-worthless East German currency. Learning of a loophole, they enlist their neighbours in their suitably brutalist apartment block to aid them in a get rich scheme, before either the loophole closes or they’re caught.

It’s a strong premise for a clockwork farce, but there’s something off in the implementation of Two to One. Everything feels a little too easy. There’s never a moment – even in the third act when experience as a film viewer tells you everything should come crashing down – where there’s  sense of jeopardy. Natja Brunckhorst sets up her themes nicely, with a constant pull between socialist ideals and capitalist greed that’s mirrored in the love triangle between dependable Robert, who’s more willing to embrace the new normal, and burly Denis Ménochet-like Volker, who (and the clue is in his name) is still devoted to his old ideals and wants to share the wealth accordingly. Her solution is she gets her own ‘Peres-troika’.

It’s charming enough, and it’s unusual to set up the Eastern part of the country as the sympathetic party, given the accepted narrative that democracy won out. It also shows some of the wilder aspects of the GDR, such as the minting of 200 and 300 East German Marks with no intent to put them into circulations. Beyond this it’s not consistently funny enough to make up for the frothy tone and lack of dramatic stakes. The thematically similar Good Bye Lenin! remains a far more entertaining examination of the tension that lingered among some of the GDR’s former residents, having been devoted to that regime’s ideals. 2/5

There have been some excellent debut features so far, and Restless (Jed Hart/ UK/ 2024/ 89 mins) is another. Lyndsey Marshal excels as Nicky, a woman whose solitary but tranquil existence is shattered when nightmare neighbour Deano (Aston McAuley) moves into the house next door, previously owned by her late parents. Shattered is the apt word as Deano’s aggressive behaviour and nightly parties drive Nicky into an almost psychedelic state of sleep deprivation.

Restless works a treat from the off, taking the time to illustrate Nicky’s daily routines. As a care nurse, she’s already overworked in an understaffed home, so her careful relaxation rituals of classical music and snooker on the tele are important. When this is obliterated by the obnoxious Deano (and McAuley revels in his flat-out boo hiss role) it’s seismic, our empathy deepened by a situation most of us will have experience (and if you haven’t, then you’re probably that neighbour). Writer/ director Jed Hart peppers his classic British social realist chops with some interesting visual touches that lean towards surrealism, but still work within the context.

What could escalate into horror territory is harnessed towards a more psychological approach that doesn’t so much examine Nicky’s mental state as excavate it. It definitely stays in genre territory with increasingly heightened circumstances, but Hart’s relative restraint keeps things tensely plausible. But what could also be a grueling experience is lightened by a beautifully-judged sense of humour. A lot of this comes from a terrific turn from Barry Ward as Kevin, a particularly cringy admirer of Nicky. There are some moments that don’t feel quite as in synch with the otherwise grounded approach, with some resolution coming from handy plot contrivance, but Restless is otherwise an exemplary little thriller. It’s also a brilliant showcase for Lyndsey Marshal, a performer we’ve seen mainly as a supporting player over her more than 20-year career. 4/5

Neon Dreaming and Two to One have finished their runs at the festival

Restless screens on Wed 5 & Thu 6 Mar 2025