‘The Peril At Pincer Point’ review: Charming, surrealist UK debut is sharp satire of creative ambition

Dirs/scr: Jake Kuhn, Noah Stratton-Twine. UK. 2025. 83mins

Pleasingly idiosyncratic and shot through with a very British surrealist sense of humour, The Peril At Pincer Point sails merrily along on a wave of modern absurdist comedy and a traditional black-and-white folkloric aesthetic. The tale of a sound designer who travels to a remote island in search of the perfect sound, only to discover the place has been cursed, plays like back-of-a-beermat plotting elevated to something rather charming, thanks to the talent of its makers and the commitment of its cast.

Back-of-a-beermat plotting elevated to something rather charming

The ambitious, low-budget feature debut of UK short filmmakers Jake Kuhn and Noah Stratton-Twine may be too low-key to travel far beyond its SXSW premiere, but it deserves to find a niche audience who will respond to its offbeat, surrealist humour. Visually, there are elements of Mark Jenkin, particularly in its chuntering black-and-white photography and distinct rural setting, but it is most obviously informed by the creaking, tactile sets and heightened melodrama of classic British cinema, to which it pays warm, astute homage.

A neat opening sequence sets up the film’s anachronistic blend of visuals, setting and story. Cinematographer Murray Zev Cohen shoots in a boxy aspect ratio, capturing flickering monochromatic footage of London. Asleep in his modern high-rise apartment, Jim Baitte (Jack Redmayne) is woken suddenly by a bloodcurdling scream. Somewhat surprisingly, given the distance from the sea, a massive crab is on the loose in the flat; when Jim attempts to catch it, it gives him a nasty pinch.

Jim is a sound designer “in the industry”, as he proudly tells anyone who will listen, and has just worked on a new horror, ‘The Peril At Pincer Point’ from legendary director PW Griffin (Os Leanse, comically embodying frothing-at-the-mouth creative ego at its most toxic). With Jim’s contributions not up to par – he has committed the ultimate sin of using files from the studio’s previous work ‘Frogopolis’ – he is sent to the island of Pincer’s Point to capture, in PW’s portentous words, “a sound unprecedented in the history of cinema”.

It’s an arduous trek that takes him from London via the Northamptonshire station of Cosgrove, past a painted backdrop of mountains and over the water with a doomsayer ferryman. On arrival, Jim immediately encounters a grizzled islander in the local pub, The Fat Plankton, who speaks of a ghostly captain stealing the souls of the island’s youth. But Jim ignores all the warnings, focused only on capturing the ethereal sound that will impress PW.

Baitte is endearingly dim-witted as clueless 20-something urbanite Jim, who remains utterly unfazed by the island’s red flags, which include a missing woman and his own bizarre visions of crabs. He is a fish out of water in this oddball environment, and it’s hugely entertaining to watch him interact with the locals – particularly Hollis (played by Stratton-Twine), the brother of the missing girl – in improvised exchanges that feel fresh and off-the-cuff. Throughout, the film pulls from a variety of influences, including outsider classics The Wicker Man and American Werewolf In London, to comedies like Ballad Of Wallace Island and horror Berberian Sound Studio.

Kuhn and Stratton-Twine have done well to convey their singular concept to the screen, with the film’s weather-beaten visuals and layered sound design from Joseph Field Eccles and Nick Smyth contributing to its potent atmosphere. Stratton-Twine also serves as editor, and the film’s swift pace and tight running time help prevent this slight story from running out of steam.

The Peril At Pincer Point also proves sharp commentary on thankless creative endeavour; particularly, it’s implied, in independent filmmaking. Jim willingly goes to increasingly extreme and dangerous lengths in the service of someone else’s vision, motivated only by PW’s emphatic, manipulative praise –“You’re on the edge of commitment,” he enthuses over the phone from London. “Dive in!” Jim is also spurred on by the very real fear of losing his coveted job to the thousands of others waiting to take his place, and of not making his mark, a concept more terrifying than any ghostly curse.