Film Club review – a well-observed, quirky family sitcom with heart

The other day I was staring at my hot rectangle of doom (phone) and someone I follow on social media was talking about her child having to learn the lyrics to We Go Together from Grease, for a show at school. (If you’re not familiar, that’s the song at the end when all the 35-year-olds graduate from school and John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John go into the sky in a car.) 

 It reminded me that I’ve known all the stupid lyrics of We Go Together off by heart since I was five years old – every do wop ba diddy and chang chang changity chang cha bop is tattooed on my mind. Then I realised that I could probably recite the entire script to Grease from beginning to end.   

And I know I’m not the only one. Everyone has at least a few pivotal films that they can endlessly quote from. I could probably do the same with Back to the Future, Withnail & I and Thelma & Louise. To this day, “Thelma, I don’t give a shit what we have for dinner” plays on a loop when I’m trying to think of what to have for dinner. And the Withnail quote: “We want the finest wines available to humanity” pops up whenever I see wine, or indeed, humanity. 

Get the latest news and insight into how the Big Issue magazine is made by signing up for the Inside Big Issue newsletter

Even though it’s slightly maddening, like a mild form of movie Tourette’s, there’s something warm and comforting about these shared cultural touchstones. Which seems to be the starting point for Film Club a charmingly wonky six-part romcom co-written by White Lotus star Aimee Lou Wood and fellow actor Ralph Davis.  

Wood plays Evie, an agoraphobic film obsessive who escapes from the real world by creating over-the-top themed screenings in her garden shed cinema. Her equally obsessed co-conspirator is her best friend Noa (Nabhaan Rizwan) an aspiring lawyer who happily dresses as the Tin Man from The Wizard of Oz to add to the atmosphere. Mostly though, their relationship is played out in movie quotes in lieu of talking about their real feelings, which are too complicated to articulate, especially when you’re wearing head-to-toe tinfoil.  

This is the premise anyway, but to completely misquote another film, the first rule of Film Club should probably be that you do not talk about Film Club. Because the fantastical cinema stuff isn’t its main strength. In fact, Evie’s supposedly irrepressible creativity gets a bit tiresome, and the costumes and decorations for her screenings are so elaborate that it must cost her at least a grand every time she puts on a DVD. The romantic friends-to-lovers plot isn’t enough to drive it anywhere very exciting, either – either into a magical pink sky like in Grease or off a cliff like Thelma and Louise. 

Read more:

• Amandaland skewers parenting with uncanny accuracy – it should come with a trigger warning
• The family-unifying effect of University Challenge
• Why am I crying at a TV show about virgins?

Strip back all the romcom set dressing, though, and underneath is a well-observed, quirky family sitcom that I’d love to see more of. The warm, funny, down-to-earth dynamics of Evie’s family, who live in a suburb of Manchester similar to the one Aimee Lou Wood herself grew up in, have a sincerity about them that’s lacking elsewhere.  

I loved Evie’s back and forth with her brilliantly deadpan younger sister Izzie (Liv Hill), which could only have been taken from life (“That tampon is giving me a migraine” she moans after borrowing a Super Plus off her). And Suranne Jones is truly award-winning as Evie’s Live Laugh Love mother Suz, whose entire existence revolves around her kids and their visiting friends.

Some of Suz’s dialogue is more Victoria Wood than Aimee Lou: (“I need a chunky belt” she says, decidedly, as if she’s solved the climate crisis). Every moment she’s on the screen is enjoyable, and I found her character really touching. A bit lost, a bit vulnerable, constantly frustrated, but with a fierce loyalty to her children that burned as brightly as her lippy. 

It might not etch itself into my memory like those changity chang cha bops, but despite its flaws, Film Club is still rather lovely. It’s sweet, guilelessly inventive and – more importantly – it’s got heart. And as the Tin Man understood, we all need one of those.  

Film Club is on BBC Three and iPlayer.  

Do you have a story to tell or opinions to share about this? Get in touch and tell us more. 

Reader-funded since 1991 – Big Issue brings you trustworthy journalism that drives real change.

Every day, our journalists dig deeper, speaking up for those society overlooks.

Could you help us keep doing this vital work? Support our journalism from £5 a month.