There’s a studied antidramatic approach to Laura Carreira‘s sober but deeply unsettling On Falling that takes some getting used to. The Portuguese writer and director’s examination of the impact of the modern economy on the wellbeing of its workforce barely whispers its message, let alone shouts. Yet it is a film of rare economy, rhythm, and mood told principally through the internalised breakdown of its protagonist.

Aurora (an extraordinary Joana Santos) is a young Portuguese woman living in Scotland who works as a picker at an Amazon-like distribution warehouse. Her job consists of roaming the endless shelves picking and scanning products for packing and dispatch. Every step she makes is monitored, her scanner beeping insistently should she take too long between any items, if she struggles to find one for example, or even commit the cardinal sin of stopping to engage in a brief chat with a co-worker.

Aurora lives in similarly isolating conditions, a shared flat with a revolving door of people from various nationalities, all, it’s implied, navigating their way through the British gig economy. Her interactions with her colleagues and flatmates are genial but fairly inconsequential. Even her friendship with a Portuguese revolves around the transactional aspect of petrol money for lifts into work.

Carreira’s film builds up depth through repetition and an expert eye for detail. The scenes of Aurora’s work feel longer each time they’re shown. This creates the sense of the tedium and allows any deviation to become freighted with meaning. As in Wim Wenders‘ recent masterclass in social realist character study Perfect Days, it’s only in the practically imperceptible changes in Aurora’s routine that we see how her mental state is being impacted.

Portuguese star Santos gives an incredibly subtle performance to match Carreira’s diligent visual style. Watching the actor is like witnessing the details of an artefact slowly being revealed under the painstaking brush of an archaeologist. It’s the way that each minor connection feels of much more import than it otherwise would. A potential spark with a co-worker for example, or a tiny but excruciating moment of crossed wires with her amiable new Polish flatmate. Santos is so adept at giving the impression of repressed pain that when the dam breaks – in the worst possible moment – it’s seismic.

There are no villains in On Falling. No one is antagonistic towards Aurora, she doesn’t suffer xenophobic abuse, or undergo any obvious crisis. The point is she’s one of potentially millions who are suffering a death by a thousand cuts in a system geared towards productivity and workplace conditions dictated by KPIs.

Carreira isn’t interested in polemicising about the evils of capitalism. Her approach is that demonstrating the effects of a million small indignities is more conducive to empathy; the pitiful bonus of chocolate bar for good performance, an unconsciously patronising job interviewer, the complete severance from the world caused by a broken mobile phone.

The lack of big dramatic moments may lead to a muted response from the wider public, and the emphasis on the drudgery of Aurora’s life is by design – not unlike Jeanne Dielman… It falls firmly into the category of slow cinema and offers no real resolution. But there’s a hypnotic quality to Laura Carreira’s incredibly focused approach that is up there with the best of the likes of Kelly Reichardt. And it’s all anchored by that brilliantly measured performance from Joana Santos.

Screening as part of Glasgow Film Festival 2025 on Fri 28 Feb & Sat 1 Mar 2025