THE STORY – Seeing the lack of care that her elderly neighbor Elsie is receiving from so-called professionals, Colleen takes it upon herself to care for her. However, Colleen’s intentions may not be what they seem.
THE CAST – Andrea Riseborough, Brenda Blethyn & Jason Watkins
THE TEAM – Paul Andrew Williams (Director/Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 98 Minutes
There’s something quietly affecting about “Dragonfly,” the latest from director Paul Andrew Williams. Set in a tightly knit housing block where neighbors live practically on top of one another yet remain largely unaware of each other, the film initially presents a delicate and thoughtful portrait of loneliness, aging, and the small kindnesses that make life worth living. For most of its runtime, it’s a charming, poignant piece that captures something honest and tender about the lives we overlook. Then it all falls apart.
At the center of “Dragonfly” are two women living side by side, their lives touching but never intersecting — until they do. Elsie (Brenda Blethyn), an elderly widow, lives a quiet, isolated life monitored by a rotating cast of impersonal nurses. Her routines are robotic: Bathed, fed, medicated, and left alone. She is treated like a patient, not a person — just another checkmark on a clipboard.
Across the wall is Colleen (Andrea Riseborough), a gruff and guarded loner whose only companion is her dog, Saber. She’s introduced as unsociable and slightly off-putting, but through a moment of tentative goodwill, offering to pick up groceries for Elsie, the foundation of a deeply moving friendship begins to take shape.
The beauty of “Dragonfly” lies in its slow, gentle build. Williams handles the early material with a light, graceful touch. We watch the two women—both solitary and overlooked—share awkward laughs, quiet conversations, and, eventually, cups of tea. Colleen notes that their homes mirror each other, a subtle nod to their parallel lives at different stages. The warmth that blooms between them is palpable and genuinely affecting.
Blethyn is wonderful, as expected, conveying weariness, dignity, and a craving for real connection. But it’s Riseborough who turns in the most layered performance. Her Colleen is all rough edges and unresolved pain. A particularly raw moment shows her applying makeup for the first time in what feels like years, trying to follow an upbeat tutorial that promises youth and confidence. Instead, she breaks down in front of the mirror, seeing none of that in herself. It’s a powerful, wordless scene that lays bare her self-loathing and isolation.
The film smartly critiques institutional care and the way society marginalizes the elderly. Elsie asks a nurse if she knows her name — she doesn’t. Her son, John (Jason Watkins), rarely visits her, and she’s treated like an invalid. Colleen is also another example of a person on the margins of society. Abandoned at a young age by her family, she was raised in the foster care system and now lives off the benefits given to her by the state. The pair offers each other genuine companionship. Their bond gives both women something they’ve long lacked: Purpose and affection. For a while, “Dragonfly” hits a beautiful stride.
Then, the final act arrives. Without spoiling too much, the arrival of Elsie’s estranged son, John, throws the entire film off a cliff. What was a small, intimate drama about unlikely friendship and societal neglect spirals into something far more hostile and chaotic, like the film is suddenly ashamed of its own gentleness. The tonal shift and events in the third act are quite unbearable to sit through. Taking a more gentle touch to its subject matter — looking at those abandoned by systems and people who are supposed to care for them, or looking at what happens when people don’t get the help they truly need — instead of what we get may be a matter of taste. Still, the narrative takes a grim turn that feels unearned and almost cruel in contrast to what came before.
Whatever message “Dragonfly” was building toward — about human connection, about the failures of the care system, about found family — is muddled and ultimately crushed by a climax that feels designed more to shock than to resonate. The final scenes carry a weight of hopelessness, betraying the warmth of the rest of the film. It’s not just disappointing; it feels like a betrayal of the characters we were learning to care about.
“Dragonfly” could have been a gem to watch with a cup of tea on a rainy day. It has brilliantly nuanced performances and a heartwarming tone, but it doesn’t seem to trust the quiet power of its story. Instead, it’s ultimately undone by a clumsy, horrific final act. It’s a film that needed more faith in its own heart.
