With her latest film, *Typist Artist Pirate King*, now streaming on Netflix, it’s an ideal time to dive into the impressive body of work by one of the UK’s most captivating filmmakers, Carol Morley. Her filmography ranges from deeply personal documentaries to misunderstood neo-noirs, showcasing her ability to create a diverse array of compelling stories.
Last year, Morley dedicated herself to touring independent cinemas across the UK, passionately promoting *Typist Artist Pirate King* one screening at a time. This whimsical film imagines a road trip between the unconventional British artist Audrey Amiss and former psychiatric nurse Sandra Panza, portrayed by Monica Dolan and Kelly Macdonald. Blending tragi-comic elements with factual biography, the film’s title is derived from Amiss’s own description of her profession in her passport. Much like its subject, the film captures entertainment, inspiration, and a hint of frustration. After witnessing Morley engage effortlessly with packed audiences during the post-screening Q&A sessions—where she shared how a Wellcome screenwriting fellowship led her to unearth a treasure trove of Amiss’s writings and artwork—I found myself saying to her after a particularly enthusiastic event, “You should accompany every screening of this film forever.”
With *Typist Artist Pirate King* now available on Netflix, it’s beginning to find its audience independently. This newfound visibility could inspire viewers to explore Morley’s captivating catalogue, which includes a refreshingly candid TV documentary, an impressive docudrama, an acclaimed British mystery, and an overlooked American neo-noir that truly deserves a second look.
Morley first gained attention in 2000 with *The Alcohol Years*, a TV documentary that returned her to her hometown of Manchester, where she spent part of her teenage years in a haze. By placing a local newspaper ad that read, “Carol Morley film project. Please contact me if you knew me between 1982-1987,” she prompted a series of brutally honest interviews. The resulting film is a stunning, confessional collage that is both revealing and at times unsettling.
*The Alcohol Years* hinted at the cinematic potential that would fully blossom in the impactful *Dreams of a Life* (2011). This heart-wrenching blend of drama and documentary tells the story of Joyce Vincent, a vibrant young woman who tragically died alone in her apartment, unnoticed for years amid a disconnected society. By combining interviews with recordings of Vincent’s voice and haunting reconstructions, *Dreams of a Life* serves as a profound testament to humanity, showcasing Morley’s talent for using cinematic forms to connect with real human experiences.
Like *The Alcohol Years*, *Dreams of a Life* steers clear of preachiness. Instead, it occupies the nebulous space between reality and imagination—a recurring theme in Morley’s work, including in *The Falling* (2014). This award-winning film, set in an English girls’ school in 1969, delves into the complexities of secrets and shared experiences in the aftermath of tragedy. Featuring a young Florence Pugh in her debut alongside established actress Maisie Williams, it draws inspiration from Morley’s earlier short film about collective illness, while the ethereal score by Tracey Thorn heightens its otherworldly atmosphere.
This brings us to *Out of Blue*, often overlooked yet a personal favorite of mine among Morley’s films. Much like *The Falling*, it captures a dreamlike quality enhanced by Clint Mansell’s ambient score, deepening the New Orleans-set cosmic murder mystery. Morley’s most ambitious endeavor, *Out of Blue* features Patricia Clarkson as a recovering alcoholic grappling with fragmented childhood memories, intertwining intensely personal themes reminiscent of *The Alcohol Years*.
Loosely based on Martin Amis’s 1997 novel *Night Train*, which was originally intended for adaptation by Nicolas Roeg, Morley describes *Out of Blue* as an effort to “rescue the characters from the pages.” The film intertwines double lives and dual realities with a surreal atmosphere that might evoke comparisons to *Twin Peaks*, a creative choice that alienated some critics. However, just as David Lynch’s *Fire Walk With Me* has been re-evaluated as a misunderstood classic, I believe that *Out of Blue* will eventually receive its due appreciation.
In addition to Morley’s work, I’m also captivated by *The Coming Storm*, where Gabriel Gatehouse explores America’s conspiracy culture in a new Radio 4 series. The show casts a light on the profound post-truth malaise taking root in the U.S., with a casual yet inquisitive style that sharply contrasts its alarming subject matter.
Then there’s *The Substance*, Coralie Fargeat’s bold social satire—a wild ride of body-horror that dazzles with its daring metaphors. Reports of audience walkouts only amplify its allure, showcasing a form of extreme cinema that shocks and captivates, marking it as my favorite film of the year so far.
