Film Review - Scrapper (2023)

The introduction reads, ‘It takes a village to raise a child can take care of myself, thanks.’ This could easily be the end of the story, right there, with a hasty strike-through. But, probably out of self-jabbing on solid grounds, something like 15’ later, this film gets thick on its own limp and original clumsiness, to eventually open up to new territories.

Shifting from street roughness to Instagram-tinted building facades, ‘Scrapper’ takes you on a trip from romanticised realism to imaginative escapism, only to land you down to what social realism feels like today in the suburbs of Britain. The photography set-up, ambitious on childhood fantasies and teenager style, might trick you otherwise; but that’s a film substantially created within the British (counter) culture attacked by the recent cost of living crisis. Ken Loach must be a fan.

‘Scrapper’ follows the summer days of a young teen making her life out of stealing bikes and maintaining the house her mother left her at, before her premature death. She manages to survive as an underage girl in a working-class suburb of London, by plotting a life with a fictional uncle using voice recordings to respond to check-up calls from governmental authorities. With all its seriousness, I am convinced that the background of the story is meant to be taken lightly.

Ignoring the punchy issues frivolously sneaked into the plot along with the ing characters (e.g. her best friend, the only witness of her grief, is a Roma boy on braces, whose origins irably get to be a ‘thing’ nearly at no point), and setting aside the problematic normalization of a kid growing up with no adult supervision, ‘Scrapper’ is a tender kitchen-sink comedy* with no melodramatic intentions. Georgie, enacted by the charismatic beginner Lola Campbell, sustains eloquently a self-sufficient daily life. Her rather mature ways are not to be questioned but considered. That said, it is of no surprise that when her never-seen-so-far father arrives at her backward—with a blond Eminem crop, scrapper manners, and charm all around (the latter only because of Harris Dickinson, the fabulous face of ‘Triangle of Sadness’ and of all his rest inspirational choices)—we are prepared to perceive him as an intruder. That’s where the story breaks through.

Charlotte Regan’s feature-length debut is indeed an honest exploration of the daughter and father relationship. A theme beloved on the big screen, from the classic ‘Paper Moon’ (1973) to the critically acclaimed ‘Aftersun’ (2022), but not exhausted. Here, Regan makes one step further. She won’t allow us to search to fill up the gap of parental loss. Rather, she is interested in the essential encounter of two individuals inherently connected but not forcefully matched. The focus is on discovering who each other is, and ultimately if they like each other. The aim is to elaborate and debate for an actual connection, daughter to father, human to human. Have we seen that before?

Moving beyond the core beauty this story bears, do not look for logical details or consistency in the storyline; humour is your guide. Whether on the dialogues or on the cuts, British indie jokes are there, accessible and welcoming even to the ones not familiar with the style (although I cannot imagine what followers of the genre would think of). Ragan takes all the freedom allowed to an independent newcomer director and gives plenty of room to explore playful ideas. Talking spiders will appear once in a while to give commentary; surrounding caricature figures will share their opinions with the camera. It is hardly surprising that Charlotte Regan, a Sundance ignite fellow, was the winner of the Grand Jury Prize at the Sundance Film Festival 2023. We will be seeing more of her, no two ways about it.