Lola

In 1940s rural England, two sisters build a machine that lets them see glimpses of broadcast media from the future. They’re a brilliant pair, who quickly and effortlessly build a camera, complete with on-hand sound, to document their findings. Soon, visions of the distant years pour in. Bowie, Dylan, the free love movement. A cultural revolution and a promise of a promise that things can change. It’s just thirty years ahead, but it might as well be on another planet.

But the machine also brings knowledge of our worse selves. The Second World War, the Holocaust, and every atrocity we still have ahead. The duo makes up their minds quickly. Someone, anyone, must know, and future history must change.

Everything that unravels next is familiar, yet charming and new all at once. Time travel is fascinating because it is less about science than it is about us. Every story involving it is inevitably about regret. Either of the things we did or didn’t do, that now linger in the distant country of the past. Except here, their regrets are the moments our heroes sow even without realizing it.

The script, written by director Andrew Legge and Angeli Macfarlane, is a masterclass in crafting a lot from very little. It’s also one of the rare instances where the found footage genre truly works. Mostly because Legge and MacFarlane understand how our perception changes in the retelling. Our subjective narrator is unreliable because they’re telling a story from a time and place we’re racing to find. It gives the film a sense of both urgency and inevitability. There’s just as much to discover on a second and third viewing as the first. Whether that’s intentional or a happy coincidence of projection, I don’t know, but I’m happy to merit the filmmakers for it.

The leading duo, played by Stefanie Martini and Emma Appleton, are remarkable. They carry the picture effortlessly. Everything the picture asks from the viewer, including accepting that someone would carry a camera even into the most dangerous scenarios, feels perfectly reasonable thanks to them. Martini, as Thom, is a cross between the mythic Cassandra and a Riefenstahlian figure, trapped by her genius in a system that will devour her. Appleton, as Mars, soulfully ages before our eyes, as her youthful crush turns to love, her determination into courage, and, ultimately, defiance.

Lola is a treat not just for fans of the genre, but anyone who loves science fiction. It taps into the same pulpy vein that pulses with Bradbury, Wolfenstein, and Primer, yet feels wholly original. It enraptured me from the first frame, and I can’t wait to see it again the first chance I get.