Juniper review – Charlotte Rampling is absolutely furious and fabulous | Film

“Give me my gin, you little shit!” It’s a role that only Charlotte Rampling could play: a veteran war photographer famous for her adventuring, bravery and hard drinking. Now almost elderly, ill and perhaps afraid of being alone, Ruth has flown from England to New Zealand to stay with her son. The little shit is her teenage grandson Sam (George Ferrier), recently expelled from school. He’s grieving the death of his mum and is not best pleased to be left alone in the house with Ruth. “I’m not looking after that old bitch.”

You can exactly see where this is going from the off. Ruth and Sam – each raging at the world – inching towards friendship and a sense of peace. Still, while first-time feature director Matthew J Saville won’t be winning any awards for originality, he has made an emotionally satisfying film. It’s beautifully acted with insightful things to say about how alcoholism and dysfunction echo unhappily down the generations.

The character of the hard-bitten been-there-seen-that war reporter is a bit of a movie cliche. But Rampling is wonderful, adding layers to rude, arrogant Ruth, showing her affinity with those who are suffering. Ferrier is very good, too, as Sam, all unprocessed grief and defiance.

Juniper, unfortunately, is let down by a couple of corny moments that belong in the made-for-TV version. It’s a shame because elsewhere the directness is refreshing. There’s a scene in which a doctor advises Ruth to have a catheter fitted. She replies archly: “What if I meet someone, we have a few drinks, and …?” She leaves the final bit hanging, enjoying watching the doctor squirm as he explains she must refrain from sex. In another she catches a glimpse of herself in a mirror. “I’ve still got it” – and boy does Ramping still have it, in spades.

“Give me my gin, you little shit!” It’s a role that only Charlotte Rampling could play: a veteran war photographer famous for her adventuring, bravery and hard drinking. Now almost elderly, ill and perhaps afraid of being alone, Ruth has flown from England to New Zealand to stay with her son. The little shit is her teenage grandson Sam (George Ferrier), recently expelled from school. He’s grieving the death of his mum and is not best pleased to be left alone in the house with Ruth. “I’m not looking after that old bitch.”

You can exactly see where this is going from the off. Ruth and Sam – each raging at the world – inching towards friendship and a sense of peace. Still, while first-time feature director Matthew J Saville won’t be winning any awards for originality, he has made an emotionally satisfying film. It’s beautifully acted with insightful things to say about how alcoholism and dysfunction echo unhappily down the generations.

The character of the hard-bitten been-there-seen-that war reporter is a bit of a movie cliche. But Rampling is wonderful, adding layers to rude, arrogant Ruth, showing her affinity with those who are suffering. Ferrier is very good, too, as Sam, all unprocessed grief and defiance.

Juniper, unfortunately, is let down by a couple of corny moments that belong in the made-for-TV version. It’s a shame because elsewhere the directness is refreshing. There’s a scene in which a doctor advises Ruth to have a catheter fitted. She replies archly: “What if I meet someone, we have a few drinks, and …?” She leaves the final bit hanging, enjoying watching the doctor squirm as he explains she must refrain from sex. In another she catches a glimpse of herself in a mirror. “I’ve still got it” – and boy does Ramping still have it, in spades.