Daddy's Head

Where is Daddy’s head?

When Isaac (Rupert Turnbull) is sent into the hospital room to say goodbye, he is confronted with a figure swathed in bandages, being kept alive by machines. The figure cannot respond – probably isn’t even aware of his presence. Most disturbingly for a young child, he does not appear to have a face.

Without seeing a man he can identify as his father, Isaac understandably finds it hard to let go, hard to believe that he’s really dead. To make matters worse, there is no-one he can trust available to help him adjust. His mother died some years ago, he has no siblings, and his stepmother Laura (Julia Brown), who never wanted children and is consumed by her own grief, is not at all convinced that she can look after him. She agrees to try only because the alternative is him being put into care.

Exquisitely shot by Laura Parkes, who uses an abundance of light, as much as shadow, to emphasise the boy’s isolation, Daddy’s Head is a sinister fairytale which balances elements of ancient lore with a crisp, modern sensibility. The superficially simple story invites multiple interpretations, with the complex psychology of the characters adding further dimensions to the film. Laura and Isaac’s awkward relationship is complicated by the presence of her friend Samuel (Ako Mitchell), who is trying to help but inadvertently feeds the boy’s resentment; and by Bella, the dog, who has her own perspective on events and does everything in her power to protect the others.

Isaac is heir to a spacious modern house with big windows looking out on the garden and, beyond it, the woods. All the colours seem muted, as if signalling the absence of the much-loved man who brought this place to life, but there are no ugly filters in use here; this is exquisitely done. The bare tree branches form confounding patterns against the pale sky, like a puzzle that Isaac is unable to solve. Deep in the forest is a bizarre construction that he imagines his father has built for him. Something urges him to go inside, but it’s very dark, and Bella warns him against it. Sometimes, Laura wonders if she ought to be afraid of the boy. He seems increasingly distant. He doesn’t want to eat. He keeps insisting the Daddy has come back for him.

At night, we watch them sleeping. The camera presses in close on fluttering eyelids. Laura sees dark smoke rising above the trees, but is it really there? Do her moments of panic make her a danger to the child? In the dizzying space that exists when all of a sudden normality is whisked away, the two of them orbit one another, troubled and troubling, but out there in the dark, or under the floorboards, or slipping out of the closet at night, there might be something much worse.