‘Glenrothan’ review: Actor Brian Cox’s directorial debut is overworked Scottish family drama

Dir: Brian Cox. UK. 2025. 97mins

Actor Brian Cox’s directorial debut Glenrothan proves to be a dramatic misfire. Cox also stars as Sandy, the gloomy owner of a whiskey distillery who writes to ask his estranged brother Donal (Alan Cumming) to return to the Scottish Highlands in the hope of reconciliation. What could have been a by-the-numbers inspirational family movie is spoiled by the lack of narrative emotion and cinematic storytelling. 

 The shoddy script also infects the performances

Written by David Ashton, whose long-running BBC Radio drama series McLevy starred Cox, the Lionsgate film will certainly be hoping to ride Cox’s Succession wave. Longtime fans of the actor’s storied career of playing sullen men on stage and screen might be surprised by his gentler approach here. Yet, it’s likely that not even the star power of Cox and Cumming—who previously did a Carpool Karaoke together—will be able to keep the film alive past its world premiere in Toronto. 

The film does have an intriguing set-up. Nearly 40 years ago, Donal left his small Scottish village for Chicago, where he opened a blues club and became a published author. At the nightspot, his daughter Amy (Alexandra Shipp) serves as a bartender and singer. When his club suddenly burns down, it’s Amy who suggests they, along with her daughter Sasha, visit Sandy after receiving his letter complaining of poor health. For Donal, the return brings bad memories of an abusive father, a deceased mother, and a star-crossed ex in Jess (Shirley Henderson). 

It doesn’t take long for Glenrothan to fly off the rails. When Donal arrives home in Scotland he immediately takes several walks containing multiple flashbacks to fill viewers in on his teenage years when he owned a motorcycle and dated Jess. In another instance, he recalls his mother pleading with him to never come back to their dead-end village. Each flashback is an obvious gap-filler executed with little panache. Elsewhere, the camerawork is equally as bad: a performance by Donal in a pub possesses some queasy handheld footage. Frequently the camera intrudes rather than providing visual focus.

Once the film really gets humming, clunky dialogue begins poking through. When Donal returns to Sandy’s house, the voice of his father from the past yells, “Don’t show your face again!” The shoddy script also infects the performances, forcing Henderson to scream half her lines.

Cumming doesn’t fare much better because he doesn’t know if he’s meant to play a scoundrel, a genius or a grifter. His character beats are so predictable—you can see his desire to sell his family’s 200-year-old distillery from a mile away – so his dramatic choices lack punch. The only actor who comes out unscathed is Cox. But he doesn’t even film himself well, undercutting his own performance by punching in and out from a close-up during his big final speech. 

And while Glenrothan is ultimately about brotherly love, familial forgiveness, facing your past and imagining a new future, none of those themes – despite the emotionally loud score – find any poignancy in this overworked film. Instead it has four false endings and Cumming’s narration over the credits trying to tie every loose end together for a happy grace note that never seems to arrive.