Another Sundance favorite. What a heartwarming delightful little film this was. From its opening frames, Scrapper announces a new voice in British cinema, one that feels playful and inventive yet emotionally grounded. It is the kind of debut that makes you sit up a little straighter in your seat and think, yes, here is a filmmaker who understands both craft and feeling.
If I had to describe it in shorthand, it feels like Aftersun meets Bicycle Thieves meets The Florida Project. That might sound like an odd cocktail, but somehow it works. The emotional intimacy of a father and daughter trying to find their footing. The working class hustle of survival through stolen bicycles. The bright, childlike energy that masks a deeper ache. It is all there, and yet it never feels derivative. It feels distinctly its own.
The story centers on Georgie, a resourceful twelve year old secretly living alone in her flat after the death of her mother. She keeps social workers at bay with clever tricks and an imaginary uncle while funding her independence by stealing bikes with her best friend Ali. It is a premise that could easily tip into misery or heavy handed social realism. Instead, Regan approaches it with lightness and imagination.
I absolutely adore how the film begins with Georgie trying to make the house look exactly like how it was when her mother was alive. Every object feels sacred, every detail carefully preserved as if time itself could be paused through sheer will. Then, as the story unfolds and her estranged father Jason reenters her life, the film closes with the two of them redecorating the space together, opening a new chapter and accepting change. Remember when she said she was getting close to going through all the stages of grief. That closing scene was it. She did it. Without grand speeches or melodrama, the arc lands with quiet force.
A bit obsessed is putting it mildly when it comes to the filmmaking techniques Regan implements. She fully thrusts us into Georgie’s imaginative adolescent mind. There are playful cutaways, heightened fantasy beats, even moments where reality bends just enough to reflect how a child processes absence and uncertainty. Talking spiders, exaggerated scenarios, bursts of color that feel almost storybook like. This is not kitchen sink realism. It is memory filtered through a twelve year old’s perspective.
And at the center of it all is Lola Campbell, delivering a breakout performance that carries the entire film. She is sharp, funny, stubborn, and heartbreakingly vulnerable. Georgie feels like a hilariously eccentric grumpy old woman trapped in a young body, yet never in a way that feels forced. Campbell gives her an authenticity that makes every choice believable. A quietly heartwarming British film that understands the universal truth that twelve year old girls can take better care of themselves and of a house than thirty year old men.
Speaking of men, Harris Dickinson continues his impressive run here as Jason. After turning heads in Triangle of Sadness, he proves again that he might just be one of the best doing it right now. There is a looseness to his performance, a sense that Jason is emotionally stuck somewhere between adolescence and adulthood. The dynamic between him and Georgie is less traditional parent and child and more two kids figuring life out together. Their banter crackles. Their shared immaturity becomes a bridge rather than a barrier.
Another British director named Charlotte who just made an amazing film about the relationship between a father and his daughter. It is strange that it happened twice so close together, but I absolutely do not mind it. Regan brings her own flavor to the theme, infusing it with humor and visual flair that sets it apart. This is a super fun and fresh little piece of British cinema with some fantastic performances at its centre.
The film balances lightheartedness, emotion, and sorrow with impressive control. It is short and sweet, yet it hits like an absolute brick when the credits roll. There is a voicemail scene that sneaks up on you and tightens its grip without warning. It never manipulates. It simply allows the emotions to surface naturally.
Stylistically, one might liken Regan to some of the great working class British directors, but she stands out through her contagious energy and striking imagery. The brightly painted houses of the estate feel almost whimsical, contrasting beautifully with the underlying grief. The camera often stays close to Georgie, as if respecting that this is her story first and foremost.
Perhaps Jason could have used a touch more backstory, a bit more shading to match Georgie’s detailed inner world. But even as it stands, the father daughter arc feels earned. It is predictable in its broad strokes, yet still moving in its execution. The tenderness that gradually emerges between them never feels forced.
Man, this was just so delightful and cute and funny, and yes, it ends with a little emotional punch. One of the better films of the year so far in my opinion. A fresh and interesting directorial debut that announces Charlotte Regan as a voice to watch. By the time the credits rolled, I was completely blown away by this charming little movie that is so full of heart. An utter delight and a standout of the year.
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