‘Maverick: The Epic Adventures Of David Lean’ review: Enthusiastic, star-studded romp through the life and work of the legendary director

Dir: Barnaby Thompson. UK. 2026. 105mins

With films including Brief Encounter (1945), Oliver Twist (1948), The Bridge On The River Kwai (1957) and Lawrence Of Arabia (1962), UK director David Lean could fairly be described as one of the great titans of cinema. So it’s no surprise that Barnaby Thompson’s documentary is packed full of effusive praise from an impressive array of talking heads, and a wealth of clips from his groundbreaking back catalogue. But Maverick: The Films Of David Lean mostly avoids the trappings of hagiography by also drawing intriguing parallels between Lean’s turbulent private life and the films he chose to make.

Carefully curated ephemera paints a fascinating portrait

Premiering in Cannes Classics, this meticulously researched documentary from producer-turned director Thompson (Mad About The Boy: The Noel Coward Story) will obviously benefit from a substantial built-in audience of Lean fans. That it’s narrated by Cate Blanchett and has assembled a knock-out line-up of interviewees – including directors Francis Ford Coppola, Brady Corbet, Nia DaCosta, Alfonso Cuaron, Celine Song and Paul Greengrass – should also help attract those less familiar with the director’s body of work. Indeed, Maverick plays like a detailed introduction to this influential talent and, while Lean enthusiasts may not find much new here, this energetic romp through his life and work is nevertheless rewarding viewing.

Born 1908 in Croydon, London, to a devout Quaker family, Lean had a sheltered upbringing devoid of much in the way of fun – cinema was banned until he was 15 – or affection. He was dyslexic, and his austere accountant father Frank made no bones about the fact he thought his eldest son stupid. Frank walked out on the family when Lean was still young, leaving his mother bereft and his son to spend a lifetime fruitlessly seeking paternal approval.

A few of Frank’s dismissive, casually cruel letters are included here, along with some of Lean’s own letters and other writings, narrated by Kenneth Branagh. They join a wealth of archive material, including photographs, press articles and various on-screen interviews with Lean (and his collaborators) throughout his illustrious career in which he moved from amateur photographer and on-set teaboy to editor (‘cutter’) and two-time Oscar-winning filmmaker.

This carefully curated ephemera paints a fascinating portrait of a man who created sweeping cinematic works, chased (and many would say achieved) on-screen perfection, but who never seemed satisfied. It’s no small irony that Lean, who directed some of the most enduring love stories ever filmed – Brief Encounter! Doctor Zhivago! – had six wives, numerous affairs (with increasingly younger women), and that he too walked out on his first wife (and first cousin) Isabel and their young son Peter (who does not feature here).

Some of Lean’s wives and lovers do contribute via archival interviews, and in benign tones. The good-natured consensus is that he was a maverick, damaged genius who couldn’t be pinned down – although viewers may wish to draw their own conclusions about his behaviour. And there’s certainly no evidence here of the on-set volatility and bad temper for which Lean was well known; the man himself comes across as distinguished and composed in interviews, even when discussing his years in the wilderness following 1970 critical flop Ryan’s Daughter. (He came back with a bang 14 years later with 1984’s A Passage To India). There is, however, on-set footage from Ryan’s Daughter in which actor Leo McKern gets into serious difficulty – and loses his false eye – while filming a scene in the turbulent sea; Lean refused to shout ‘cut’ until he got what he wanted.

Extensive behind-the-scenes footage is one of the film’s great treasures; we see Lean marshalling the desert troops for Lawrence Of Arabia, building an entire village on Ireland’s west coast for Ryan’s Daughter. It’s enthralling to see him in action, this creative force of nature who was unafraid to take big swings and hardly ever missed, who could always locate the human stories at the heart of the spectacle. No wonder his legacy endures and inspires; among an impressive line-up of celebrity fans, Dune director Denis Villeuve credits Lean for helping develop his cinematic vision while Oscar-winning Sinners cinematographer Autumn Durald Arkapaw – disappointingly, the only non-director here – discusses his incredible use of light. Maverick is not just a celebration of the brilliance of Lean, who died in 1991 aged 83; it’s also a passionate clarion call for the preservation of cinema as a big-screen art form.