Reporting from Cannes, Shannon Cotter bears witness to Clio Barnard’s adaptation of Keiran Goddard’s class-conscious novel. I See Buildings Fall Like Lightning turns out to be one of Cannes’ breakout hits. Read her review here.

There is really something powerful in how music draws people into a film. Opening almost instantly with the lead ensemble, Patrick (Anthony Boyle), Rian (Joe Cole), Oli (Jay Lycurgo), Conor (Daryl McCormack) and Shiv (Lola Petticrew) belt out “Don’t Mug Yourself” by The Streets in their local. The first few minutes of I See Buildings Fall Like Lightning capture the energy of the film well: loud-mouthed, full of life and laughter. That is until reality comes seeping in.

Time passes, and our crew, born and bred in Birmingham, still remain home. That is except for Rian, who has made it big in investment banking down in London, which Shiv mockingly describes as “the land of opportunity”. Despite the constant push to make ends meet, this group are endlessly proud of their roots, with Rian and Conor working together to develop new housing estates in an area they feel has long been abandoned by the government.

Their friendships remain tight; Shiv and Patrick, a long-term couple, are parents to two girls. These long-time friends regularly make trips to London to see Rian, despite some of the politely disguised raised eyebrows they receive from his new fling, Emma (Millie Brady). Even with Rian’s new fortune, he doesn’t distance himself. And yet there is still time for impromptu nail painting or bickering over the different prices of crisps. At the Cannes premiere, actor Anthony Boyle spoke about corroborating their closeness with hangouts and physical movement and a lot of “bros”, which is visible in the film. It's very clear this is a friendship that has withstood decades.

However, financial burdens begin to tear them at the seams. Patrick, though college-educated, makes his living as a food delivery driver; Oli sells drugs on the sly. The novel, written by Keiran Goddard and adapted in conjunction with legendary Irish playwright Enda Walsh, very deftly touches on how late-stage capitalism is the source of so much conflict. At one stage, Patrick hankers on about the “pernicious social mobility myth” to Rian, one of the film’s most captivating relationships. The idea of an individual working their way to transcend class is now an obsolete concept, lost in massive wealth disparity.

In this society, the wages people earn now return to the owners who first doled them out. This creates a relentless hopelessness that, even amongst the joys of human connection, means very few people from their neighbourhood can stay afloat. The notion that if they just work hard enough, they can achieve prosperity and escape the dredges of poverty proves to be a profoundly broken social contract. Patrick remarks that a 9-to-5 is no longer enough to guarantee permanent housing or a stable life. It is a motif visually repeated in the flashes of falling buildings at the height of the male characters’ emotions: the demolition of social housing. These flats being erased from the city skyline, Patrick believes, are the crux of the government abandoning working-class households under the false promise of bringing something bigger and better.

Shiv, Rian and Patrick’s stories are deeply intertwined for reasons not to be spoiled, but Daryl McCormack as Conor shapes the film as a man cracking under the pressures of delivering on such a large-scale project. His intention is to offer his community affordable, high-quality housing, but a financial error sets him spiralling amidst raising a newborn child with partner Sophie (Lucie Shorthouse). This absence of wealth is the root of all the group’s misfortune that sets them on the cracked path to tragedy.

Who might just escape from this bleakness is Jay Lycurgo’s Oli. Popping off the screen in the Cillian Murphy-helmed Steve, Lycurgo is a delight in this as the wise-cracking, semi-drug dealer who seeks to abandon his ways after an unsettling encounter. Most of Oli’s arc is centred on a small dog named Lola. Found on the streets, this canine becomes inseparable from Oli, even insisting on bringing her to work on the construction site. Oli’s plotline is tonally very different, as the others are besmirched by so much drama, but it’s a welcome relief, underpinned by Oli's winning charm. Considering the sometimes dour nature of the film, there’s a constant nagging fear that Lola might face a similar fate, but she is at least the deserved recipient of the highly sought-after jury prize for the Palm Dog (Cannes’ way of rewarding canines on the cusp of stardom).

The dynamic, quickly cut camerawork by Simon Tindall and the brash, down-to-earth dialogue put I See Buildings Fall Like Lightning very firmly in the much-beloved kitchen-sink genre of Ken Loach and Shane Meadows, and its energy and relationships nabbed it the Audience’s Choice Award as part of Directors’ Fortnight. A day before the film’s premiere, author Keiran Goddard remarked on the importance of having a film such as this among the glitz and glam of the Cannes Croisette. And he is right. This film should and will be welcomed everywhere.

I See Buildings Fall Like Lightning had its world premiere on 20th May 2026 in the Directors’ Fortnight (Quinzaine des Cinéastes) section of the 79th Cannes Film Festival. 

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