Scotland is one of the most wonderful places in Europe, and one I always appreciate seeing on screen. Like anywhere else, people there struggle with money, work, family problems and the uncertainty of what comes next, but art remains very much alive, and Scottish cinema has produced filmmakers who have always understood that ordinary lives are stories worth telling. Lynne Ramsay has done this beautifully throughout her career, particularly with Ratcatcher and Morvern Callar, finding stories among people who might otherwise pass unnoticed. Peter Mullan has also looked closely at working-class Scottish life in films such as Neds, while Charlotte Wells’ Aftersun showed how an intimate story about a father and daughter could become one of the most internationally celebrated Scottish films of recent years.

Tom Nicoll’s Salvation, which premiered at the Toronto International Film Festival, belongs comfortably in a conversation about that side of Scottish filmmaking. His feature directorial debut takes us to Greenock on Scotland’s west coast and centres on Danny Carlton (Liam Harkins), a man in his early thirties who works in a pub, owes money to various people and is absolutely convinced that his current life cannot possibly be the one he was meant to have; then he discovers the world of life coaching.

Danny is the kind of person you sometimes want to laugh at, but at other times you can understand exactly why he thinks the way he does. He has absorbed the language of online self-improvement, the promises of success, confidence and becoming the best version of yourself, except his actual life looks nothing like the one being sold to him through a screen. After becoming fascinated by successful life coach Marshall Allison (Kevin O’Loughlin), Danny decides that he can do it too. He borrows money, turns his shared flat into a space where people can “focus”, builds a website, pays for advertising and waits for people to discover that he has the answers to their problems.

The problem, of course, is that almost nobody comes. Nicoll gets plenty of dark comedy from the gap between Danny’s idea of himself and how everybody else sees him, but Salvation would have been a much weaker film had it simply spent 91 minutes laughing at him. Danny can be ridiculous, manipulative and increasingly difficult to defend, yet there are times when it is possible to understand exactly how someone like him gets here. He wants money, certainly, but he also wants to feel important and to have people listen to him; perhaps most of all, he wants some evidence that his life is going somewhere.

Danny also feels very much like a man of our time, surrounded by people online promising better lives, more money and success, usually with enormous confidence. Nicoll uses the world of life coaching to look at why someone like Danny might be drawn to those promises in the first place, especially when he is lonely and desperate for his life to change.

Liam Harkins is excellent because he commits completely to Danny’s belief in himself. There is no wink towards the audience to tell us that the actor understands how absurd his character can be. Harkins fully believes in Danny, even when he is talking nonsense or making a complete fool of himself, and that is what makes the performance both funny and, as the story becomes darker, increasingly uncomfortable to watch. It is an impressive first leading role in a feature, given that Harkins is in every scene, although he and Nicoll already knew each other well from working together on the short Lighting Tests.

I also have to mention how much I loved hearing the Scottish accent throughout the film, without any attempt to soften the way these characters speak or make their conversations easier for an international audience. Harkins is from Greenock himself, and the accent and natural way people speak to one another give Salvation so much of its personality, making the film connected to the place and the people it portrays.

Greenock also has its own place in Scottish cinema, as more than twenty years ago it provided the setting for Sweet Sixteen, with a teenage Martin Compston playing a young man desperate for money and a different life. The two films tell very different stories, but I like the connection between them, with both following men from the same Scottish town who want something more from life and make increasingly bad decisions while trying to get there. Sweet Sixteen gave Compston, then a non-professional actor, his first major screen role, while Salvation gives Harkins his first leading role in a feature.

Danny eventually finds someone willing to believe in him when 22-year-old Scott (Stephen McMillan), who is dealing with problems of his own, signs up for his programme and, somewhat surprisingly, seems to get something from it. Danny might be making things up as he goes along, but the attention he gives Scott genuinely matters to the young man, while Danny finally has someone in front of him who listens to his advice and sees him as the life coach he so desperately wants to be.

The supporting cast also brings plenty of Scottish cinema history with them, including Kathleen McDermott as Danny’s mother Jackie, who made her film debut in Lynne Ramsay’s Morvern Callar, and Conor McCarron, who began his career with the leading role in Peter Mullan’s Neds.

Nicoll and cinematographer Alex Grigoras shoot the film in 4:3, often keeping Danny tightly framed and letting his face fill much of the screen, which feels entirely right for a man so wrapped up in his own version of himself and the life he believes he deserves. Danny is constantly at the centre of the frame because, in his head, where else would he be?

Beneath the life-coaching satire and the darker direction the story eventually takes, it is a film about a fairly ordinary man who cannot accept being ordinary. Danny is not chasing some elaborate fantasy; he wants the things people are encouraged to want every day – money, recognition, independence and the feeling that he has made something of himself. The tragedy, and much of the comedy, comes from how badly he misunderstands what achieving any of those things might actually require.

For a first feature, Nicoll shows considerable confidence in letting Danny stay complicated, giving us enough time to understand where his behaviour comes from without asking the audience to excuse the increasingly bad decisions he makes. There is a clear sense that Nicoll knows exactly what kind of film he wants to make and, rather than trying to do too much with his debut, he keeps his attention on Danny and the people around him.

Salvation is funny at times, but also uncomfortable, with its modest scale working very much in its favour. Scottish cinema has always been good at telling stories about people like Danny, and with Salvation, Nicoll shows that an ordinary life can give a filmmaker more than enough to work with.

Rating:

Written by Maggie Gogler

Featured image courtesy of TIFF26

_{View of the Arts is an online publication dedicated to film, music, and the arts, with a strong focus on the Asian entertainment industry. As we continue to grow, we aim to deepen our coverage of Asian music while remaining committed to exploring and celebrating creativity across the global arts landscape.}