The Incomer ★★

Last Sundance, it was Tom Basden and Carey Mulligan who met a quirky recluse on a fictional speck of land somewhere on the British coast in James Griffiths’ bittersweet The Ballad of Wallis Island. This time around, Domhnall Gleeson is on a paid assignment on another imaginary isle of which there seem to be quite a few. Only that this place in Louis Paxton‘s quirky comedy is smaller, farther away, less spoiled by human development and arguably more picturesque. It’s also more secluded to the point that its only two inhabitants have lost all contact with the outside world. Adult siblings Isla (Gayle Rankin) and Sandy (Grant O’Rourke) grew up with the family fairy tales and modified myths of water spirits, magical seagulls, and most of all the dangers of the outside world. 

Of course, this is exactly where Gleeson’ well-meaning land coordinator for the Northeastern Scottish Council hails from when he sets foot on Isla’s and Sandy’s perceived property. They are firmly determined to defend it with all the spells and strange spectacle they – or mostly Isla, who is fiercely protective of her home and impressionable brother – can come up with. It’s mostly jumping around in bizarre handmade bird costumes and wing-flapping, threatening curious curses and raising the occasional household tool against the dumbfounded Daniel. He’s quick-witted enough to come up with some powerful magic tricks himself, thanks to his mobile phone’s ability to shoot photos and play music. Having established a sorcerer’s draw, the three slowly get to know each other. 

Isla who also provides a framing voice-over from her peculiar perspective, is not-so-secretly enchanted by anecdotes from the outside world for which Sandy has long harbored a fascination, and also by Daniel. He, however, still has his mission to fulfill to get the pair off the island so it may become a bird reservation. While there are no actual fantasy elements, the playful plot moves fleetingly between reality and imagination, visualizing Isla’s stories with gentle animation. Its soft colors and simple shapes contrast not only with the cold climate and rough terrain of the island, but with the darker aspects of these stories. They are also a way for the siblings to make sense of events they couldn’t fully understand as children.

Among these are suicide, mentally paranoid parents and early abandonment. Sadly, Paxton himself doesn’t know where to go with these somber undertones of a compulsively cutesy concept. There are odd scenes where Isla essentially argues with herself, but imagines her counter arguments personified as a nasty “fin man” water sprite. Whereas jokes that actually work are rare, tonal missteps are abundant. Daniel’s boss is a careless career woman, the siblings’ initial hatred of anything foreign is written off as an amusing quirk, and the very real issue of the displacement of local communities by government force is utterly romanticized. Poignant performances and Pat Golan’s moody cinematography create a deceptively droll façade, underneath which hides a premature premise that feels both muddled and conventional.