Blue Heron ★★★★★

Released: 26 June 2026

Director: Sophy Romvari

Starring: Eylul Guven, Amy Zimmer, Ádám Tompa, Iringó Réti, Edik Beddoes, Liam Serg, Preston Drabble

Four years ago, Charlotte Wells’ filmmaking career went stratospheric with her highly regarded debut feature, Aftersun. Now, in 2026, after a run of critical acclaim at worldwide festivals, Sophy Romvari looks set to do the same with her debut, Blue Heron. The comparison is made because of the semi-autobiographical nature of both films, and more specifically how they show an adult reflecting on their childhood memories of and relationship with a deeply troubled close relative. In many ways, Blue Heron takes the introspection to another meta level, with a shift midway through that at first seems jarring, but quickly becomes a masterstroke from Romvari. Simply put, Blue Heron is a remarkable memory piece.

Romvari’s debut, which she directs and writes, initially follows a more traditional structure. In the late 1990s, we are introduced to a Hungarian immigrant family as they relocate to Vancouver Island. The parents (Iringó Réti as Mother and Ádám Tompa as Father) take care of their four children: the eldest, teenager Jeremy (Edik Beddoes), who is Mother’s child from a previous relationship; young brothers Henry (Liam Serg) and Felix (Preston Drabble); and eight-year-old Sasha (Eylul Guven). Romvari sketches their realistic family dynamic impressively, offering us a textured, hazy look of Sasha’s splintered memories. DOP Maya Bankovic shoots proceedings with warm, fuzzy tones, eking out every sense and emotion from the world.

Blue Heron’s dramatic crux comes in the form of Jeremy, whose behavioural issues worsen in this new environment, putting himself and his family in danger. Bankovic often lingers on Sasha’s face in the film’s tensest moments; it is how she remembers events, and by some extension, what Romvari retains from her own childhood. Reti and Tompa are impressive in showcasing their increasing stress at Jeremy’s behaviour, whilst Guven is excellent as an often silent observer who, at only 8-years-old, is watching her family splinter apart. But the film’s star is Beddoes, which is even more impressive considering his performance is near-wordless. He runs the full gamut of emotions across his face throughout, from silent anger and frustration to little glimpses of happiness.

Approximately halfway through Blue Heron, the plot jumps forward by around 20 years, tracking Sasha as an adult (here, played by a remarkable and emotive Amy Zimmer). It’s a tonal shift that at first seems out-of-place, but almost instantly, Romvari shows us that there is nothing to worry about. Here, Blue Heron morphs into something truly miraculous. Sasha’s ruminations on the past, told via discussion groups, revisits to the past, and present day communications, present a complex cocktail of emotions, from anger, frustration, regret, and happiness. We come to see how hard it is for Sasha to contend with everything that happened in her childhood.

Blue Heron is a film that defies expectations, a slow-burn that creeps up on you before leaving you defenceless. Memory pieces are nothing new, so it is a noteworthy achievement to create something so fresh and so potent out of scattered recollections. Following on from the success of her well-regarded short film, Short Processing, Romvari shows a keen eye for detail and an impressive ability to eloquently and methodically work through a spellbinding range of emotions. Blue Heron is very much a striking family drama, but it is also so much more than that.