Director: Clio Barnard
Writers: Clio Barnard, Keiran Goddard, Enda Walsh
Stars: Moe Bilal, Anthony Boyle, Millie Brady
Synopsis: Five childhood friends face adult struggles: Patrick and Shiv’s relationship strains over a secret, Oli parties destructively, Conor awaits fatherhood with business dreams, and wealthy Rian can’t escape his past despite moving away.
Every country has had a housing and job crisis, with each year, politicians promising to fix the problems of the past to give way to a brighter future–better living wages, job opportunities, affordable housing, and better social and healthcare services. But year after year, it seems these are just empty promises, with a focus on privatization and on selling the majority of buildings and residences to the one-percenters or “investors” taking over. For example, what is currently happening in my island of Puerto Rico, where there is a huge case of displacement and loss of local income due to laws that only help millionaires, granting them full exemptions on capital gains, while leaving the residents cast aside and struggling with the crashing tides of monetary greed and political corruption by the government.
The privatization and the ceding of the island’s resources and privileges have made the cost of living so high that it has become hard to get yourself up from your current position. And those who want to make a life on their own–the current generation, the recently graduated–can’t do so and are positioned never to do so, trapped in conditions that threaten to make independence and stability increasingly unattainable. The majority of politicians worldwide don’t seem to want to help fix this severe issue. And the more time passes, the worse things will become. For many of us, the future no longer feels like something to look forward to. There are now many projects in development that continue to sell the island’s residences and beaches in exchange for lavish hotels and Airbnbs for tourists.
At this rate, it is an endurance test. A basic milestone of adulthood became a fragile, distant fantasy. Now, at the perfect time, comes a film by British filmmaker Clio Barnard that understands this issue and wants to confront it, via the perspective of a group of friends from the working class slowly realizing that their dreams and visions for their life are becoming out of reach, the aptly titled and quite brilliant I See Buildings Fall Like Lightning (screening in the Quinzaine des cinéastes at the 2026 Cannes Film Festival). Adapted from the novel of the same name by Keiran Goddard, the film is a charming and somber portrait of the current generation’s struggles in a world in decline, showing the discontent and disillusionment crawling up their spines until it reaches their souls.
They come to understand that the systems surrounding them were never designed to sustain their aspirations. The current landscape only keeps them surviving from one day to the next. I See Buildings Fall Like Lightning is set in Birmingham and follows a group of five around the age of thirty, all of whom you will know and meet as if they were your own friends: Patrick (Anthony Boyle), Rian (Joe Cole), Oli (Jay Lycurgo), Conor (Daryl McCormick), and Shiv (Lola Petticrew). These fab five have known each other since they were kids, maintaining their friendship even through university and as they pursued separate life paths. They all have plenty of responsibilities–married with children, about to be a father, leaving behind the drugs and alcohol, or having important projects on the line.
The issue lies in that they can’t seem to let go of their youth, partying until the sun comes up and drinking like a merry band of pirates. Each time they are together, it seems like a special event, and they cherish each other to an exaggerated extent, to the point where they must celebrate their presence amid the time-consuming responsibilities. But growing pains and late realizations have taken a toll on them. Cracks begin to appear as the party dies down; from breakups and miscalculated business loans to revealed secrets and relapses, the idealized world the group had on their mind turns upside down. Reality hits harder and harder with each turmoil.
Barnard takes the time to develop each of these characters and their respective problems, revealing the roots of their frustrations and disappointments. Their struggles emerge not only from economic instability and broken systems that affect the working class, but from the quiet fear that they may have already drifted too far from the people they once hoped to become. With great chemistry from the cast and an apt screenplay that understands the situations occurring in the story, to the point where it feels like a plea to help this generation (and future ones) to get out of the hole in which the system has put them, Barnard demonstrates how governments create facades that leave people emotionally and financially stranded. But Barnard does not want I See Buildings Fall Like Lightning to be a completely melancholy-driven picture.
That is why she gives us many moments of joy, highlighting how important it is to have special people you can count on in moments of uncertainty. Even in their sticky situations, their bond is difficult to tear apart; it might seem that what they have built could fall on occasion because of frustrations and despair, but nothing can erase the love and history they share. In collapsing times, one of the few things you can hold onto is companionship–a necessary refuge against the alienation surrounding them. In these instances, between camaraderie and gloom, Clio Barnard offers glimpses of Danny Boyle’s Trainspotting, as the 1996 film has the working class depicted through the lens of post-industrial despair.
That era in the ’90s had drastic economic restructurings and displacement, creating a spike in alcoholism and drug epidemics, induced by the harsh, brutal policies of Margaret Thatcher that robbed that generation of a chance for growth. Heroin became the escape for the lads from the rigged society, much like the crew in I See Buildings Fall Like Lightning, who use partying and alcohol as their own. It numbs the pain, yet it never resolves the emptiness that consumes them. Barnard draws a parallel between the two generations, the ’90s and the 2020s, who are damaged by political neglect. The cycles of hopelessness evolve rather than disappear; self-destruction is used to forget an unforgiving reality. Both of these groups were pushed to the margins, with little to do and a slight prospect for the future.
Traditional labor was lost during and post-Thatcher; economic and social abandonment was the result. Housing through the years priced out entire generations. And now, the current youth, the guys and gals in Barnard’s film, pay a price for policies established before them, ones the Trainspotting lads had the initial toll of. As for companionship, Boyle refuses to portray his characters’ bond purely as malicious, showing scenes of joy and profound empathy even in their darkest hours. There is indeed manipulative violence between them, but, at the end of the day, it is friends who truly understand those struggles they are going through. Barnard does not go to the lengths of high substance abuse or violence to showcase her characters’ trials and tribulations, although the emotional damage inflicted is just as devastating.
What I specifically love about I See Buildings Fall Like Lightning is how real things feel in the film. The characters, setting, dilemmas… everything feels grounded and, ultimately, human. And the respect and care Barnard has for the subject matter and the people addressing these issues worldwide is evident in every frame. She does not want to sensationalize the struggles or pain her characters endure. The approach is full of empathy and honesty–attuned to today’s anxieties, while recognizing the dignity and complexity of those attempting to survive through these tough times. I relate to these characters because not only am I nearing their age, but also the situation in Puerto Rico and its privatization is only getting worse. The world may suck, but we’ll get by with a little help from our friends.
