In Vitro

Bluesky

When we see them lying in bed, Jack (Ashley Zukerman) and Layla (co-writer Talia Zucker), there’s something about the way that he has his arm around her that seems just a little bit off. It’s as if, from his perspective, he’s holding not a person but a possession. It’s as if he’s afraid that if he doesn’t keep a tight grip, she’ll inevitably slip away.

Will Howarth and Tom McKeith’s indie thriller, which screened at the 2025 Glasgow Film Festival before going on to Fantaspoa, is full of little touches like this. He watches her oddly when she’s on the computer. He protests when, doing the dishes, she takes off her ring. It’s there in the tone of his voice, little things that he says – and yet she seems to be able to stand up for herself. They both have to be confident, self-reliant people to cope on their isolated farm. She gets frustrated with him and she misses their son, who is away at school, but she copes.

This isn’t farming quite as we know it today, but it’s not far off. Though it may take you a little while to pick up on it, the film is set in the near future. Out here in the sticks we don’t get the usual architectural, sartorial or vehicular clues to let us know that, but we do get Jack wrestling with a cow in a vat of water, shouting that it has come out of stasis too early when Layla, alerted by a siren, runs to help. The system has crashed again and they have to run a scan. With that deep inner sadness that one sometimes sees in farmers, he tells her that he’ll have to put the cow down. Layla worries. Business hasn’t been going well. In actuality, it’s worse than she thinks, but he hasn’t told her.

There are other things he hasn’t told her, and they come to a head when she has a strange encounter out in one of the fields. This is where the narrative flips. It won’t come as much of a surprise to viewers used to this kind of fiction, and the plot is not the film’s strongest point, but it functions well enough as a device through which to explore a troubled relationship. The reasons for Jack’s odd behaviour are less important than the psychological processes underlying them. Zukerman is excellent, finding sympathy for a difficult man so that, without forgiving him, we can understand something of what he’s going through and just how vulnerable he is. There’s solid support from Howarth, who turns up as a farm worker, and Flick the dog, playing herself, who is very effective in expressing unease. We spend most of our time with Layla, however, as she goes on a journey of discovery, learning about herself in the process. Zucker handles this with confidence, all the way through to a well presented (if somewhat predictable) ending which invites us to ask how much of the characters’ behaviours are prompted by circumstance, how much they really differ.

Atmospheric cinematography and a well judged score do a lot to enhance a low budget project which punches above its weight. It’s a melancholy piece of work but an interesting exercise in imagining the future of rural life.

Source