Una

Imagine a Lars von Trier adaptation of The Breakfast Club and you'll get some idea of the perverse tension running through Benedict Andrews' debut feature.

Sexually abused as a child, the title character's confrontation with the once trusted family friend convicted of raping and abducting her is far from explosive. Instead, Una approaches Ray in a damaged, trance-like state. Locked together in the bowels of the warehouse he now manages under a new identity, the two discuss their brief but monumental relationship. Each has suffered enormously as a result of Ray's actions, and we discover they have more in common than the polarised labels of victim and abuser imply.

Andrews has bravely made a film in which despised criminals are shown to be capable and deserving of rehabilitation. The film's overall problem is that its central figure is comparatively underdeveloped. An ethereal, tragic figure rather than a survivor, Una appears to embody a tawdry male fantasy. One may well question whether it was appropriate for a man to tell her story. [Harry Bach]