The misadventures of doomed round-the-world yachtsman Donald Crowhurst seem to exert a ghoulish fascination on film-makers. A decade on from Jerry Rothwell and Louise Osmond's excellent documentary, Deep Water (2006), both James Marsh and Simon Rumley have attempted to fathom the psychological state of a weekend sailor who allowed a combination of hubris and honour to determine his fate after the press got wind of his bold bid to enter a race he knew from the outset he could never win. Having bankrolled Marsh's The Mercy, Studio Canal acquired the rights to Rumley's Crowhurst in an effort to control the competition. But now we can compare this ambitious indie with Marsh's earnest, but often becalmed account of an enterprise that remains shrouded in mystery. 

Attending the Earl's Court Boat Show in the hope of selling his latest sailing aid, the Navicator, Donald Crowhurst (Colin Firth) is intrigued by a challenge issued on behalf of the Sunday Times by Sir Francis Chichester (Simon McBurney) to beat his record by sailing non-stop around the world. The first and fastest competitors in the Golden Globe Race will win £5000 each. But Crowhurst wonders whether participation will boose his profile and help promote his inventions. 

Young sons Simon (Kit Connor) and James (Finn Elliot) have great faith in their father and help him demonstrate his device to a potential customer. But sales are sluggish and they return to Teignmouth in Devon, where Crowhurst goes sailing with the boys, as well as his wife, Clare (Rachel Weisz), and daughter Rachel (Eleanor Stagg). Clare films her husband with a home movie camera, as he talks of adventure and making his family proud. However, she is shocked when he tells friends in the pub that he has entered the single-handed race and intends to win. 

Clare reminds him before bed that he has a family to provide for and should be satisfied that he has fought for his country and served on the local council. But Crowhurst is convinced he can prevail, even though he has rarely been further than Falmouth.  Concerned, Clare confides in sister-in-law that she hopes her spouse will lose interest, as he has always been one for grand schemes that never get off the ground. However, Crowhurst goes to see local caravan salesman Stanley Best (Ken Stott) and convinces him that a trimaran with pioneering buoyancy features of his own devising will give him stability and speed. With his backing, Crowhurst announces his entry in an effort to drum up some publicity and serve notice to potential rivals like Bernard Moitessier and Robin Knox-Johnston that he means business. Sceptical press agent Robin Hallworth (David Thewlis) doubts Crowhurst's talent, but admires his Churchillian pluck and sees him as the embodiment of a lost British spirit that would go down well in the papers. 

Having landed sponsorship deals with Crosse & Blackwell and Oxo, Crowhurst negotiates with the BBC about a programme that will utilise images filmed during the voyage. The producers ask him to make tape recordings and keep a journal, so that he will return home an author, as well as a hero. But Clare struggles to compose herself during an interview with a BBC reporter about how she will cope during her husband's six-month absence. By contrast, the boys are thrilled and get their father to trace his route on a large map of the world. 

Delays in building the boat, however, mean that several Golden Globe competitors set off before Crowhurst and Best becomes concerned that he has thrown away his investment. But Crowhurst convinces him to stump up more money in return for a contract stipulating that he will receive the deeds to his house if he fails to complete the race. Without telling Clare, he signs away their future. But he promises her that he will return safely and they embrace. 

On 29 October 1968, two days before his planned and much-delayed departure date, Crowhurst is informed by the boat builder that he has not been able to get hold of the best rubber seals for the doors and portholes. So, despite giving a TV interview in which he claims he is ready, Crowhurst tells Best and Hallworth that he would prefer to wait until the spring. However, Hallworth reminds him that he would be up to his neck if he let his sponsors down so late in the day and suggests that he should leave them to take care of his doubts while he sets sail in pursuit of his dreams. 

After a sleepless night beside a silent Clare, Crowhurst dresses in his yellow oilskin (over a shirt and tie) and greets the press at the gate of the family home. The Teignmouth Electron is towed into view. But Crowhurst seems like a beaten man before he sets out and can barely bring himself to acknowledge the small crowd in the harbour and the brass band playing him off. Hallworth introduces him to the mayor and Best wishes him well, as he goes out to the trimaran in a small launch with his loved ones. 

He seems not to have been aboard on the water before and steps on to the deck without conviction and Clare has to reassure the boys that their father won't need the lifeline he trails over the side in case he falls overboard. She wipes away a tear, as they turn for land and Crowhurst is left to his own devices. He is silent, sullen and completely lacking in confidence at the daunting task he has set himself. 

As he gets his sea legs, Crowhurst dispenses with the tie and throws up over the side. He also has to bail out a leaky compartment and cuts his hand with a knife. But, while he stomps around the cabin, he also thinks back to practicing ship-to-shore phone calls with his children and he does get to call Rachel on her eighth birthday. But the signal fades and - as Day 13 dawns and he finds himself 72 miles north of Madeira in the Atlantic Ocean - he turns to making tape recordings for the BBC. He admits he has been unprepared for the voyage and has lost all romantic notions of messing about in boats on the Solent. But, while he feels alone and is getting tired of everything being wet, he is determined to get the boat ready for the Cape of Good Hope. 

Making steady progress, Crowhurst sees whales and dolphins leaping out of the water alongside him. However, his generator gets wet during the night and Hallworth fumes when he sends back a dull Morse message about stripping and drying the engine when he needs stories about Krakens to keep the press interested. He is also concerned Crowhurst Donald is still off the coast of Portugal when everyone else is rounding Africa and his assistant senses Hallworth's growing frustration that he has saddled himself with a duffer. 

During a phone conversation with Best, Crowhurst complains about every difficulty and his sponsor inquires whether he has decided to quit. But Crowhurst is nettled by Best sensing his opportunity to claim his assets and declares his readiness to keep going and asks him to convey his best wishes to Clare. A short while later, however, he hits the kind of storm that he had discussed with the kids and the trimaran is buffeted about in the squall. The buoyancy device on top of the mast is broken beyond repair and Crowhurst feels alone and defeated, as he clings to the pole and surveys the vast expanse of ocean around him. 

Despondancy hits hard and Crowhurst sits in his cabin with the toaster the family had bought for him as a going away gift. He and Clare fought to turn tears into smiles at the breakfast table and both had seemed to sense that this was not going to end well. Rousing from his reverie, Crowhurst radios Portishead to put a call through to Clare, but there is no one home and he contents himself with asking the telephonist to say he is well. Looking at his charts, he knows he will be ruined if he turns back, but will have only a 50:50 chance if he tries to tackle the Cape in a boat completely unsuited to the task. Consequently, Crowhurst debates misreporting his position, knowing that no one can gainsay him so far from land, and he ponders the awful choice of being a hero or a wretch. 

A towering aerial shot shows the tiny boat in the dark waters and the awfulness of Crowhurst's plight is laid bare. Suddenly, he starts reporting progress and Hallworth seizes on the speeds he has started to achieve and dictates stories about Crowhurst solving his problems and beating daily mileage records set by Chichester. Clare and the children are thrilled and people are so relieved to be getting good news that nobody checks the claims with any great care. Even the national press latch on to the story. But, as Christmas Eve arrives on Day 54, Crowhurst starts to feel the strain of his isolation and his deception and thinks back to informing a TV interviewer about the need to improvise and stay mentally strong when challenges arise. He plays `Silent Night' on a harmonica on the deck, as Clare hoovers and peels potatoes back home. The family chat on Christmas Day and he checks if Portishead is listening in when he contemplates coming clean about his ruse. But the pride he hears in his sons and wife prompts him to bite his tongue and the agony of the gambit begins to weigh ever more heavily upon him. 

By Day 84, Crowhurst is 200 miles north of Brazil and he hears a radio broadcast that Hallworth has placed him closer to the Cape than his calculations would allow and he is furious with him for putting him in such a predicament. He decides to wire back that he intends maintaining radio silence until he has returned to the South Atlantic. But, as Clare poses for photos with two of the wives of the other three competitors, Hallworth ignores his assistant's judgement and sends out a press release that the radio is out of action because a huge wave in the Indian Ocean has damaged the generator. He also forces Clare to do a press interview and, while she is happy to recall how she met her husband, she is reluctant to talk about the worrying she does and asks Hallworth not to subject her to such ignominy again. Naturally, he insists he is only doing his job and is trying to make them all rich. Moreover, with Crowhurst out of contact, it's up to them to keep the public happy. 

On Day 123, with Crowhurst off the coast of Argentina, he springs a leak in one of the side hulls and realises that he is in serious trouble. Recalling his last conversation with Clare, in which he confesses that he doesn't want to go, she reminds him that she is only concerned with him and knows that he will feel the disappointment more than anyone else if he fails. Yet, he takes a small boat to the shore and wanders inland where he is picked up by the coastguard. He explains that he didn't bring a passport, as he had no intention of stopping. But he is in difficulty and needs assistance. As he sits in a small bar, he fishes an insect out of his beer. Having checked the story, the officer finds him material to repair the hole in the hull and, as James and Simon celebrate the news that the Frenchman has dropped out of the race, Crowhurst finds himself back on the ocean with a patched up craft and no idea what he is going to do next. 

He knows that he has to play things carefully and come home in last place, so as not to arouse too much suspicion (despite the fact that he has been keeping a true record in his logbook). Thus, he is relieved when Knox-Johnston returns in triumph after sailing non-stop and Clare smiles bravely at a gathering in front of the television to watch the news. But Hallworth keeps reminding everyone that Crowhurst still has a chance of being the fastest competitor (as the Argentines have clearly kept quiet about their encounter) and Clare seems uneasy with Hallworth's efforts to drum up positive publicity every step of the way. 

Moreover, she is running out of funds and has to go to the dole office to claim benefits. But the clerk knows nothing about Crowhurst's expedition and, thus, can't understand why she can't say where her husband is or when he will be coming back. The humiliation bites deep, but Clare gets a joyful phone call from Portishead that Crowhurst is alive when he passes Diego Ramirez and sends a radio message to an Argentine station. Once again, Hallworth makes the most of the situation and the press is all too ready to ignore the imprecision of the log readings being provided to them and to lap up the news that the intrepid novice is safe and seemingly on course for a record speed. 

On Day 214, at the Horse Latitudes some 320 miles south east of Bermuda, Crowhurst decides to down his sails to ensure that Nigel Tetley comes home second, as he would be less open to question as a doughty loser than someone who overcame all adversity to triumph. Thus, he drifts for a while and remembers telling the children how the Spanish sailing to the Caribbean for the first time had eaten their horses when they ran out of drinking water, as people had to come before animals. He promises them that he has lots of fresh water and will be fine. However, as he hears the news that Tetley has capsized and been rescued, Crowhurst is freaked by the prospect of being the last man in the race and thinks he can hear horses hooves clattering on the deck above him, as he tries to coax the Argentine listening station into getting him a direct line to Clare so he can tell someone else the truth without being overheard. 

Clare is sipping champagne with Best and Hallworth, however, as Tetley's misfortune makes the feat of the Devon outsider seem all the more remarkable. The Sunday Times makes Crowhurst a front page story and Hallworth reads it to the Teignmouth locals in the pub, with his own part in proceedings giving him particular satisfaction. But, adrift on the ocean, Crowhurst is in torment, as he tries to get radio contact with Clare on a private line and becomes increasingly concerned, as he makes into busier waters, that his luck of not bumping into anyone who can expose him might run out. Musing to himself while soldering, he decides that the worst sin of all is concealment and strides on deck to cut his grabline at the rear of the boat. Now he knows that he has left himself no safety net, no matter what course of action he eventually decides to take. 

Cutting his hair with a knife blade, Crowhurst prepares himself to end his torment. He talks to Clare on an unconnected phone and sees her in a coat and scarf sitting in the entrance to his tiny hold. In reality, she is on the pier at Teignmouth with the children looking out with binoculars in the hope of spotting him and speculating whether he will get back before the Moon landing. In his imagination, he touches her hand and hopes that she can forgive him for his failings and for putting her through such an ordeal. Struggling to hold his emotions in check, Crowhurst writes the final entry in his journal: `It is finished. The mercy.' He consults his clock and looks up into the sky before jumping overboard. 

His suicide cross-cut with Best coming to the door to inform Clare that the boat has been found and she slowly lowers her eyes. Hallworth goes out to see the boat and enters the cabin, where the salvage skipper suggests that Crowhurst had made the whole thing up and left the logbooks in plain sight so that his deception could be discovered. But Hallworth insists that he had no intention of sailing round the world at all and that he had hoped to fool everyone in the hope that no one would consult the log of the last man home. 

Hallworth shows the documents to Best, but stands outside the gates as Clare greets the press and accuses them all of having helped push her husband overboard and then held him down. She loathes how papers praise one day and blame the next and apologises to them that the grieving widow makes such a poor story. But, she concludes, the truth often does. As we hear Crowhurst's last message exhorting Clare to raise the children as symbols of their love and never let anyone tarnish their happiness together, she tells Simon, James and Rachel to welcome their father home every day, as that is what one does with people who have gone away. 

Closing captions reveal that Crowhurst sailed for 13,000 miles during his seven months and two days at sea and that his body was never found. Moreover, in an act of chivalric generosity, Knox-Johnston (the sole finisher) donated his prize money to Clare. She is now in her mid-eighties and only learned about this project when shooting was underway. It seems as though a little Firth charm was used to alleviate her fears, but it can't be easy being forced to relive an ordeal that will have haunted her daily for the past five decades. 

In fairness, Marsh and screenwriter Scott Z. Burns take few liberties with the story outlined in tomes like The Strange Last Voyage of Donald Crowhurst, which was written by journalists Nicholas Tomalin and Ronald Hall (who is played here by Mark Gatiss, alongside Oliver Maltman as fellow reporter Dennis Herbstein). But, in lacing their speculation with discretion, the pair tone down Crowhurst's more delusional ravings and make them seem no more devastating than Clare's embarrassment in making a benefits claim. Similarly, their decision to depict Crowhurst as a maverick rather than anything less flattering allows them to turn their ire on the media, which is blamed in Clare's wildly emotive speech for tipping her husband over an edge he had willingly skirted. 

Colin Firth and Rachel Weisz do well enough in difficult roles. However, the former never quite emerges from the shadow cast by Robert Redford in JC Chandor's All Is Lost (2013), while the latter is saddled with too many token scenes that offer little or no insight into Clare Crowhurst's mindset before, during and after a reckless endeavour that could have been stopped had the race organisers conducted background checks with due diligence into the maritime and emotional suitability of the competitors. To a degree, Marsh and Burns also let Hallworth off the hook by letting David Thewlis play him with a comic bravura that recalls Sidney James promoting the Miss Fircombe Beauty Contest in Gerald Thomas's Carry On Girls (1973).

The craft credits are all strong, with production designer Jon Henson and cinematographer Eric Gautier capturing the cramped vulnerability of life aboard Teignmouth Electron. The sound mix devised by Johnnie Burns and his team also plays a crucial role in conveying the cocoon in which Crowhurst slowly disintegrated. But, as was the case with the Stephen Hawking biopic, The Theory of Everything (2014), Marsh tells his tale with a deliberation that was absent from such sure-footed documentaries as Wisconsin Death Trip (1999), the Oscar-winning Man on Wire (2008) and Project Nim (2011).

Crowhurst's epic act of misguided hubris has been fascinating film-makers for five decades. In addition to factual studies like Colin Thomas's Donald Crowhurst - Sponsored for Heroism (1970), Jill Evans's The Two Voyages of Donald Crowhurst (1993) and Jerry Rothwell and Louise Osmond's Deep Water (2006), there have also been a clutch of feature films about Crowhurst's exploits, including Peter Rowe's Horse Latitudes (1975), Christian De Chalonge's The Roaring Forties (1982) and Nikita Orlov's Race of the Century (1986), They have also inspired a number of stage plays, a couple of video installations and an opera. But few have succeeded in getting inside of the yachtsman's deteriorating mind with such immediacy as Simon Rumley's Crowhurst, which has been executive produced by Nicolas Roeg, who had also tried to film the story in the 1970s.

Opening with Donald Crowhurst (Justin Salinger) breaking down on learning from press agent Rodney Hallworth (Christopher Hale) that he is the last man standing in the 1968-69 Golden Globe Race, the story flashes back to show Donald struggling to sell his Navicator invention and being informed by bank manager Barry Sanderson (Hugh Hayes) that he will not be extended further credit. Wife Clare (Amy Loughton) commiserates before urging Donald to get a proper job. But, over breakfast one weekend, he spots the Sunday Times announcement of a £5000 prize for the fastest time in the race it proposes to sponsor and, inspired by the feats of Francis Chichester, he believes he can win the cash and earn himself a knighthood into the bargain. 

Denied a loan by Sanderson, Donald seeks sponsors and attracts the attention of Hallworth, who suggests that a number of Teignmouth businesses would be interesting in backing his expedition. Among them is caravan salesman Stanley Best (Glyn Dilley), who is intrigued by the revolutionary trimaran that Donald intends fitting with a self-righting buoyancy aid of his own design. However, Best's contract terms are punishingly stringent and will cost Donald his home if he fails to complete the race. But, ignoring the advice of his lawyer, he signs and puts his own ambition before the security of Claire and their four children, Simon (Haydn May), James (Marcus May), Roger (Austin May) and Rachel (Agatha Cameron Kettle).

As Donald prepares Teignmouth Electron, John Ridgway (Gavin Nolan) and Chay Blyth (Christopher Davies) are disqualified by the race organisers and he is in good spirits as he conducts trial runs and is interviewed by local TV reporter, Peter Porter (Edwin Flay). Clare has her misgivings, however, and is lukewarm in her enthusiasm, as Hallworth secures deals to get Donald free provisions for the duration. She does provide a shoulder to cry on, however, after Donald is frustrated by a series of delays that prompt increasingly angry phone calls. But, with just seven hours to spare, he leaves Devon in October to a chorus of `Land of Hope and Glory' from the small band of well-wishers on the quay. 

Silence descends as Donald becomes accustomed to his new isolation. He performs his morning ablutions, makes tea and boils baked beans with just the creaking of the boat and the sound of the sea for company. His routines quickly become monotonous, as he washes plates and pans in his pump action sink and almost welcomes a problem with the rudder, as it gives him something to do besides standing on the deck and gazing at the horizon. When not eating joylessly solitary meals, he updates his logbook and charts and sends Morse messages to shore. He finally speaks aloud to curse the lack of a hose to pump water out of the hold after a rough night and he is forced to use a plaster baler and a bucket. Aware that much worse is still to come, Donald confides in his journal that he is breaking his vow to Clare to continue only if everything is shipshape. 

While Donald doubts the pumps will be good enough to get him through the Roaring Forties, Porter announces that Alex Carozzo (Philip Perry) has been airlifted from his boat suffering from severe stomach ulcers. The news has little impact on Donald, however, as he informs Hallworth during a radio telephone call that he thinks the boat is ill-suited to its task and that he fears he will not be able to complete the race. Poring over his maps, Donald declares it would be suicide to continue. But, a rousing rendition of `Jerusalem' - which is concluded by Donald after lines are taken by his various supporters in a parodic patriotic montage -  just about keeps his spirits afloat.  

War veteran Bill King (Richard Lee) is the next to call it quits after he capsizes, while Loick Fougeron (Nicky Jordan) sought refuge on St Helena. But, while experiencing distorted recollections of dancing at home with Clare and having nightmares about fish floundering on his bunk, Donald hits upon a way of salvaging his pride by laying low off the coast of Argentina for a few months and then rejoining the race in last place. He would fudge his records in the hope that nobody took too close a look at the doodlings of a gallant loser. This way, he would keep the house and avoid bankruptcy, while also being able to exploit the British love of a trier. 

Re-energised by his ploy, Donald sends a series of newsworthy messages to Hallworth, who blitzes the papers with stories of record distances and bulldog bravery. Donald also resigns himself to four months of radio silence to prevent his call signals being traced to the South Atlantic. Yet, as the children sing `Silent Night' at Christmas, Donald and Clare struggle to keep their emotions in check during the cross-cut second verse, as he smiles sadly and she nurses a glass of red wine in growing consternation (although the hardships she endured that were chronicled in The Mercy are absent here). He cooks himself a hearty lunch and laughs at the joke in his cracker before toasting the Queen and calling home. The children burble happily, but he nearly cracks when Clare asks where he is because he knows is having to lie to her. 

Keeping Hallworth at bay proves less stressful, as Donald ignores demands for weekly updates to keep the press onboard. Instead, the becalmed sailor plays himself at chess and dangles his toes in the warm water. He even resorts to flicking baked beans over the side and making drunken recordings for radio broadcast. Moreover, he also keeps having nightmares of fish invading his cabin and one scream of anguish is continued by his wife, children and press agent. But worse comes when he discovers a hole in the vessel and he fears that he will be exposed, as he is uncertain he can survive long enough for him to fake his return around Cape Horn. 

He lands on a remote beach in Argentina and is provided with the means to repair his craft by Santiago Franchessi (Lewis Nicolas) and his wife, Lucille (Myrian Oje-Da Patino). While dancing a drunken tango with the latter, however, Donald imagines himself with Clare and is pushed to the floor by a shocked hostess when he tries to kiss her. As Clare haltingly sings `I Vow to Thee My Country', Donald smashes a telephone receiver in frustration at not being able to speak to his wife and confess that he has messed up. But he remains locked in his lie and returns to the race that has just been won by Robin Knox-Johnson (Michael Harkin), who becomes the first man to sail single-handed around the world without stopping. However, the prize for the fastest time is still up for grabs between Donald, Nigel Tetley (Chris Poole) and Bernard Moitessier (Chris Wilkinson).

The screen splits into four and the images assume a bluish tinge, as Donald tries to come to terms with the fact that he just might get away with his scam. A cacophonous version of `Rule Britannia' plays on the soundtrack, as he struggles to remain in control. He decides to come out of hiding and sends Hallworth a progress report, which is passed to the relieved Crowhurst family. But Donald is pushed closer to the edge when he learns that Moitessier has withdrawn from the race in order to sail around the world for a second time. Suddenly, the prospect of winning returns and Donald is crushed by the dread of being exposed as a fraud. The music becomes more distorted on the soundtrack, the quarters of the split screen take on different hues and Donald's face contorts in close-up, as he tortures himself with the prospect that getting home alive may no longer be an option.

His worst fears are realised when Tetley sinks within touching distance of the finishing line. As his family cheers and Hallworth chats on the phone like a sinister figure in an acid dream, Donald succumbs to despair. His image fragments into dozens of tiny split screens, as he buries his head in his jumper and begins to spout wild philosophical ramblings. The screen changes colour with each new rant, as he declares that by learning to manipulate the space-time continuum, he shall become God and disappear from this physical universe. Scribbling frantically in his notebooks, he reveals the extent of his creeping madness until he concludes with the famous words: `It is finished. It is finished. It is…The Mercy.'

Regaining his composure, Donald lowers the sails, shaves and dresses in a shirt and tie before standing on the deck in the moonlight some time in July 1969. He starts singing `God Save the Queen' and, as he continues through the mostly unheard verses, we see him tiptoeing through the house to kiss each child, as they sleep. They wake as he leaves the room and congregate on their mother's bed after she has also received her farewell embrace. This would be a poignant way to end, as their suffering while awaiting news must have been every bit as excruciating as Donald's descent into despair. But Rumley opts to show stills of the wreckage of Teignmouth Electron on the beach of Cayman Brac before closing on Crowhurst signing his life away in Stanley Best's office. After all, this was the moment that his fate was sealed. 

A former critic who already has such noteworthy credits as The Living and the Dead (2006), Red, White & Blue (2010) and Fashionista (2016) on his CV, Rumley takes a sizeable stride forward with this distinctive biopic. Despite lacking the funds at Marsh's disposal, he consistently finds more innovatively visceral ways of conveying Crowhurst's state of mind as his adventure becomes a nightmare. Production designer Chris Barber, cinematographer Milton Kam and editor Agnieszka Liggett make substantial contributions, as do composer Richard Chester and sound designers Andy Walker and Vincent Watts. But it's the boldness of Rumley's use of the confined cabin space and the vastness of the ocean (actually the Bristol Channel) that reinforces the agonies being endured by the exceptional Justin Salinger. 

The split screens and crash montages also make an impact. But their usage might have been a little more restrained, as hallucinatory colour changes and image distortions always feel more self-conscious than similar shifts in audio tone and timbre. Nevertheless, Rumley disconcertingly conveys Crowhurst's breakdown, while also questioning the brand of Britishness that seeks to turn a human tragedy into a source of patriotic pride. Crowhurst was clearly intoxicated with the same sense of self-delusion and it's this that lingers longest in the mind rather than the amateurish deceptions of an eccentric outsider who was out of his depth from the moment he set sail.

Having made a fine impression with Greek Pete (2009), Weekend (2011) and 45 Years (2015), Andrew Haigh leaves the British provinces behind to try his hand at the great American road movie with Lean on Pete. Adapted from a 2010 novel by Willy Vlautin, this unsentimental rite of passage may not be Haigh's best outing to date. But it invokes the spirit of John Steinbeck in examining the state of the American Dream in the heartlands that helped change the nation's destiny.

Fifteen year-old Charlie Plummer has moved to Portland, Oregon with his father, Travis Fimmel. Having had a rare hot breakfast after Fimmel's married co-worker, Amy Seimetz, spends the night, Plummer goes running and discovers the Portland Downs horse-racing track. When he drifts down there a second time, he meets Steve Buscemi, who needs help with a flat tyre and offers Plummer $25 to help him take two quarter horses to a meeting in Washington. Striking an immediate rapport with a five year-old named Lean on Pete, Plummer enjoys the atmosphere of the stables and the thrill of the race and is pleased when Pete comes to the paddock fence to stand beside him while he sleeps on the bed of Buscemi's truck.

Pleased that Plummer has bought some groceries and has found something to occupy his time, Fimmel has no objection to him working for Buscemi, who shows him how to exercise Pete on a rotary machine. However, he draws the line at teaching him table manners after he bolts down his food at lunchtime, although he sympathises with the boy because his mother walked out on him and he was left to take his chances with Fimmel after he argued with aunt Alison Elliott about Plummer's upbringing. When Fimmel is hospitalised after being attacked by Seimetz's furious husband, Plummer says nothing to Buscemi, who introduces him to jockey Chloë Sevigny when they go out of town to a meeting. She tells him about the injuries she has sustained during her career and admits it's tough being a woman in a man's world. But she also urges him not to get too attached to Pete, as Buscemi can't afford to be sentimental when a horse passes its racing peak.

Checking on Fimmel's condition by phone, Plummer tries to find a number for Elliott in Rock Springs, Wyoming. However, he is more concerned with Pete and, when Fimmel dies, Plummer moves into Buscemi's office next to the stable. Moreover, when Sevigny intimates that Pete will be sent to Mexico for slaughter unless he wins his next race, Plummer decides to take drastic action. When Pete comes last and Buscemi informs Plummer that he intends selling him, the boy takes the truck and horse box and heads for Wyoming, in the hope that Elliott will take him in. 

Stealing a map from a petrol station, Plummer crosses the plains and enjoys a rare moment of peace when he bathes in a river. But he is soon reduced to siphoning petrol and doing a runner from a diner, where the waitress persuades her boss to let him go (reinforcing Fimmel's contention that one can always rely on a waitress). Shortly afterwards, he runs out of fuel and has to walk across scrubland to find any signs of civilisation. He tells Pete about his best friend in Spokane and the weekend that he and Elliott spooked themselves out while camping and fled home to watch TV. 

Eventually, he finds a remote homestead, where Iraq War veterans Lewis Pullman and Justin Rain are playing video games and chugging beers. Rain mounts Pete and Plummer admits to Pullman that he has never ridden him. They get a visit from neighbour Bob Olin and his granddaughter Teyah Hartley, who cooks them supper. Plummer is puzzled why she allows them to tease her about her weight and she tells him that people will put up with anything when they have nowhere else to go. 

Creeping away in the night, Plummer leads Pete through the wilderness and keeps confiding details about his past. He admits to tearing up the only photograph he had of his mother in a fit of pique and remembers Fimmel saying that she was a temperamental creature, too. As dusk falls, Pete is scared by the sound of two motorbikes on a remote highway and slips his rope. Plummer runs after him, but is powerless as a car rams into the side of the horse and Pete dies with Plummer kneeling beside him. 

Giving the police the slip, Plummer continues on his way and breaks into a house in order to launder his clothes. Arriving in a roughneck town, he hooks up with Steve Zahn and his girlfriend Rachael Perrell Fosker at the local food kitchen. They live in a camper van and allow Plummer to stay, while he makes some money with a house-painting job with some Mexican migrants. However, Zahn is an abusive drunk and, when he steals Plummer's cash in the middle of the night, the youth takes a tyre iron from an abandoned car and hits him across the head in order to retrieve his bus fare to Laramie, where Elliott has taken a job in a library. 

She is surprised to see him, but welcoming and non-judgemental. Over pancakes, Plummer asks if he can stay and she readily agrees. When he mentions the prospect of going to jail, she says she will protect him and find him a good school so he can finish his education and start playing American Football again. That night, he comes to her room because he can't sleep and confides that he suffers from nightmares about Fimmel and Pete. But, when he sobs on her shoulder about missing him so much, it's left unclear whether he's talking about his father or his equine friend. 

Magnificently photographed by Magnus Nordenhof Jønck and poignantly scored by James Edward Barker, this horse and his boy odyssey evokes memories of such diverse features as John Huston's The Misfits (1961), Robert Bresson's Au Hasard Balthazar (1966) and Kelly Reichardt's Wendy and Lucy (2008). But, while he maintains a discreet distance to allow Plummer to learn from his mistakes, Haigh avoids generic clichés in examining how people manage to make the best of things, in spite of being so `weak and sick and ugly and quarrelsome'. 

The male characters certainly prove poor role models for young Charlie Plummer, as he watches both father Travis Fimmel and mentor Steve Buscemi ducking and diving in a bid to remain afloat. For all his moral laxity, however, Fimmel doesn't deserve his fate and the police's seeming lack of interest in Plummer's whereabouts as a key murder witness somewhat undermines the plausibility of the storyline. Similarly, Buscemi appears not to have pressed charges after Plummer steals his truck, while the officers attending the scene after Pete's demise seem to be highly derelict in their duty in allowing the boy to abscond into the night. 

Such clumsy contrivances aside, this is an engaging saga that relies more on small gestures, quiet confidences and companionable silences than it does on grand speeches and high-powered performances. As is often the case with outsiders, Haigh has a firm grasp of the peripheral milieu and the mindset of its inhabitants. But, in judging the pace to a tee, he employs a detachment that some might find off-putting, even though it forces viewers to reach their own conclusions when Plummer stares at his changing reflection in a bathroom mirror or seeks the comfort of strangers. 

Plummer acquits himself admirably as the budding athlete searching for a replacement for the mother who betrayed him and his stoic turn is all the more impressive for its lack of pathos, as he learns to look after himself in the school of hard knocks. Buscemi and Sevigny also chip in effectively, although the encounters with the war vets and Steve Zahn's brutish hobo feel rather tacked. But Haigh redeems himself by neatly squaring the circle by ending the picture with Plummer going for another run in a new neighbourhood and leaving us to wonder how things will pan out.

Boxing movies haven't changed much since Wallace Beery won an Oscar for his performance as an ageing pug on the skids in King Vidor's The Champ (1931). So, it's hardly surprising to hear echoes of the past coming through  as loudly and clearly as a ringside bell in Paddy Considine's Journeyman. Anyone familiar with the genre will recognise traits borrowed from Robert Ryan in Robert Wise's The Set-Up (1949), Stacy Keach in John Huston's Fat City (1972), Hilary Swank in Clint Eastwood's Million Dollar Baby (2004), Jake Gyllenhaal in Antoine Fuqua's Southpaw (2015) and Johnny Harris in Thomas Q. Napper's Jawbone (2017). But, in returning to the director's chair for the first time since he debuted with Tyrannosaur (2011), Considine reveals an obvious affinity with a sport whose risks keep undercutting its romance. 

World champion Paddy Considine might have recently lost his father and loyal cornerman, but he also has a new daughter with wife Jodie Whittaker and has no fears in facing motor-mouthed contender Anthony Welsh. He hijacks the pre-bout press conference with snide remarks about Considine having taken the title by default and promises to take his head off when they meet in a few days time. Squaring up to his opponent, but retaining his composure, Considine winks at the worried Whittaker on the front row of the journalists, as Welsh hisses about the life-changing contest and how much he looks forward to dancing on Considine's grave. 

Completing his training with Paul Popplewell and Tony Pitts, Considine spends quality time with his baby before leaving for the venue. Whittaker urges him to knock Welsh out quickly, but it's clear he is a fearsome opponent and, even though Considine promises to return as the champ, there is more than a little trepidation behind his reassuring smile. He remains quiet in the dressing-room, as he tucks a photo of wife and daughter into his boot and threads his bootlace through his wedding ring. Considine even has his daughter's name on the waistband of his shorts, as he enters the ring to a cacophonous reception from the crowd and some last-minute baiting from Welsh.

The fight is cut in such a way to limit the amount of physical punishment being given and taken and the longest shots linger on Considine recovering between rounds in his corner. At one point, he puts Welsh on the floor and he seems in control. But a couple of shots get through and he sustains a cut over his right eye. One or two other blows bring him up short and slow-motion spittle arcs out of his mouth, as his head jolts to the side. Yet, when the judges announce their decision, Considine retains his title and he returns home for Whittake to put the belt back on the mantelpiece and make him a cup of sweet tea.

While she is in the kitchen, however, Considine feels a sharp pain on his right temple and he slumps forward on to the coffee table. As Whittaker rushes in to cradle him and call for an ambulance, Considine feels as though he is out for the count on the canvas (although it's not sure if this happened in the fight or whether this is just the sensation washing over him as he slips into unconsciousness). 

He is next seen sitting on the edge of a hospital bed with a shaved patch on the right-hand side of his head. Whittaker has to dress him alone and struggle to support him to the car (which seems highly unlikely given he has suffered some sort of brain trauma and would clearly be receiving specialist treatment as a world champion). She accompanies him to his physiotherapy sessions and holds his hand as they sleep. Despite everything, she also manages a smile when she finds Considine hitting a punching ball with his belt over his arm and he insists he is getting ready to fight that black bloke. Moreover, she makes love with him when he becomes aroused while looking at old photographs (rather oddly including ones of his father and their daughter) on her laptop. But she is aware that much has changed, as his hands stroke her back with a sense of unfamiliarity.

Puzzled as to why the friends from his boxing photographs haven't come to see him, Considine goes to visit his father's grave and has his hair cut. They bump into Pitts, who promises to take him to the gym some time soon. But, while he seems harmless, as he mumbles and shuffles around, Considine keeps lashing out at Whittaker when she reminds him to boil the water before making a cup of tea and snaps that she is too busy with the washing to attend to his every need. Yet she recognises how vulnerable he is when he wets himself and has to be helped upstairs to change. 

Having rewatched the fight and Considine's ringside interview with Steve Bunce, Whittaker whispers a pillow talk plea for her husband to come back to her, as she feels so alone. But she gets a fresh inkling on the gravity of her situation the next day when Considine puts the crying infant in the washing machine because she is making too much noise while Whittaker is upstairs hoovering. Appalled, Whittaker bundles the baby into the car and she drives off, leaving Considine to his own devices. He manages to make a cup of tea. But, when he looks for the photos on the laptop, he sees footage of the fight and is so troubled by flashbacks he doesn't understand that he punches the framed pictures on the wall and takes his belt to jump off a bridge into the river. 

While underwater, Considine appears to have recollections of his wedding day and precious moments with a pregnant Whittaker and his newborn child. Thus, when he pulls himself out of the water, he staggers to the gym and Pitts rushes him to hospital. Sitting beside his bed, Pitts weeps because he doesn't know what to do to help his mate and fetches Popplewell from the building site where he is working to rally round Whittaker. However, she stays away, while Pitts tries to keep Considine occupied doing some pad work at the gym and Popplewell takes him out for fresh air. He misses her and wants her to know that he is doing his best and his pals reassure him that she will come home when she's ready. 

A physio montage follows, as Considine works hard to recover his co-ordination and basic movement. Pitts and Popplewell are never far from his side and Welsh even comes to the house to offer his apologies for what happened and admit to being ashamed of the way in which he had shot his mouth off. But Considine only has the vaguest memories of him and is polite, but confused during their conversation. He also struggles to remember what he had planned to say when Whittaker phones to check up on him and he begs her to come home, as he is doing everything he can to return to normal. Tears trickle down both their cheeks as she hangs up, but she knows things will need to change before she can go home. 

While Whittaker pushes a pram on the beach and sees a happy family in the distance, Considine gets spruced up for a benefit night. He suddenly seems more eloquent and aware than he has been since the night his world was turned upside down. Thus, he is able to tell Bunce and the audience that he doesn't blame Welsh or boxing for what happened to him. He also thanks Pitts and Popplewell for not abandoning him and hopes that his wife and daughter will soon be back in his life. Unsurprisingly, as he poses for selfies with fans, Considine is joined by Whittaker in a posh frock and he remembers to call her the love of his life before they dance together under the benevolent beams of Pitts, Popplewell and Welsh. 

Back to somewhere near his best, Considine starts coaching kids at the gym. Whittaker clears out the garage and finds his kit bag from the night of the fight. She is touched to find the snapshot of in his boot (as if she never knew he has this superstition) and she goes to the gym to bring her husband home. Things may not be the same, but she knows he won't be taking any more punches and stands a chance of improving over time.

It's unfortunate that this sincere picture should appear in cinemas the week that Dale Evans has elected to speak about the fatal brain injuries suffered by  Mike Towell during their British welterweight title eliminator in 2016. Indeed, his heartfelt words make a mockery of the glib speech that Considine delivers at the charity dinner in his honour about his injuries having nothing to do with the noble art of boxing. But everything about the final third of this increasingly glutinous saga rings hollow, as Popplewell and Pitts suddenly come out of the woods to help their old mucker when Whittaker disappears without making any effort to seek medical assistance for her clearly stricken spouse. 

Such slapdash plotting is compounded by the fact that Considine suggests no sense of timescale, as the slight change in his growing daughter makes his `recovery' seem remarkably speedy rather than slow and painful. He also appears to spend all of his time being attended by physios and never once makes a return visit to the neurosurgeon who presumably left the neat little scar on the side of his skull. And isn't he world champion rather than the journeyman cited in the title? Wouldn't he, therefore, have a manager or a promoter to provide him with some home care until he receives an insurance payout? Surely Whittaker wouldn't be left to cope on her own and where does Popplewell suddenly get all that spare time to keep an eye on his buddy when he had been forced to find work as a builder to make ends meet after the fateful fight?

Considine creates two characters here - the quietly confident middleweight and the stranded man-child. There are flashes of uncertainty in his eyes before the bout, but they are replaced by unknowingness when the world becomes so unfamiliar that he barely recognises the face he is shaving. The stares and silences are affecting, as is the barber shop remembrance that Muhammad Ali was the greatest fighter of all time because his achievements also came at a terrifying price. But the notion that it takes a second brush with death to teach Considine where his priorities lie is utterly bogus, as he is demonstrably a devoted family man before his accident.

Skilled though Considine's portrayal is, however, keeping the focus so resolutely on his ordeal means that Whittaker becomes increasingly marginalised. She seems to have no family and friends to call on for support and the failure to explain where she has gone reduces her plight to a mere dramatic convenience that allows Pitts and Popplewell back into the picture. Her decision to return in the glare of the spotlight is equally specious, as she has always maintained a low profile and would have wanted to reconnect with her husband in the privacy of their own home. Moreover, the idea that someone who has been through hell as a result of a boxing injury would find redemption preparing kids to dice with the same potential fate seems irresponsible. Yet it also seems in keeping with the ethos of a sport in which the trade off between success and disaster is viewed as an acceptable risk.

Notwithstanding these glitches, Considine works hard to convey the debilitating effects of his injuries. Yet, despite the whippet-trim torso, he often looks the 44 years that make him far too old to play a credible world champion. Whittaker makes the most of an underwritten role, but her decision to flee feels as contrived as Welsh's pre-fight boasts. Production designer Simon Rogers, cinematographer Laurie Rose, composer Harry Escott and editor Pia di Ciaula all make solid contributions, with the latter deftly subverting the clichéd training montage with the rehab sequences. But, too much of the meticulous care that Considine puts into his performance is missing from his writing and direction, with the result that feels more like a deeply personal showcase than an authentic slice of sporting realism.