Brian (David Earl) is a hermetic and eccentric inventor who lives in a small cottage nestled in the Wales countryside.  To help combat his loneliness, he constructs Charles (Chris Hayward), a robot made from the odds and ends of what he has in his workshop.  Ever protective of his creation, Brian wants to keep Charles hidden from the rest of the town, but Charles has a desire to explore and see the world. 

Brian and Charles is a quirky buddy comedy directed by Jim Archer from a script by Earl and Hayward for release by Focus Features.  It is a small and simple idea with an incredible amount of heart behind it that makes it a very special film.  Nominated for the Grand Jury Prize at the 2022 Sundance Film Festival, the film found a release window nestled in a swarm of blockbuster titles and offers a charming and unique bit of counterprogramming. 

Earl, as one part of the two-hander, has a fine line to walk to keep us engaged and he does a wonderful job at it.  The idiosyncrasies could easily turn audiences off from him, but the faux documentary structure allows Earl to peel back some of the layers of Brian to show the man’s heart and desires.  Essentially monologuing for the first fifteen minutes while showcasing some of his creations, Earl is able to build a relationship with us and begin sowing the seeds of compassion and sympathy for this deeply lonely man.  

Hayward excels in an impossible role as Charles.  It is hard to classify Charles as a purely physical performance because his body is totally obscured by the construction of the character.  Towering over Brian with a discarded mannequin head and a glowing blue eye, Charles could be a terrifying creation but dressed in a cardigan and a men’s big and tall shirt, he is a friendly giant that has an affinity for garden fresh cabbages and knowledge.   

One of the most interesting and engaging things about the film is that once Charles becomes sentient, the filmmakers leave it open enough for quite some time to wonder if he is actually functional or if this is a coping mechanism for Brian.  Eventually the world of the film opens up enough to make it crystal clear that Charles is a moving and talking being.  The question of is he/isn’t he looms over much of the first half of the film and when it is confirmed that Charles is truly alive – at least as alive as a robot with a washing machine for a belly can be – the weight of a potential tragedy being lifted is a huge relief. 

The opening of the world also brings in two new characters.  Hazel (Louise Brealey) is a friendly force that engages with Brian and helps to keep him positive when Eddie (Jamie Michie), the neighborhood brute, seeks to demean and dismantle.  Hazel fills a nice role in this learning how to love story, but Eddie seems so out of place in the world of the film.  He is blindly antagonistic with no clear motive behind his actions.  It is a bold choice to not explain Eddie with a thorn in his paw redemption arc, but he is also not developed enough to provide a foil to Brian other than a one creates while the other destroys dynamic. 

Brian and Charles is a charming little film that seeks to bring a smile.  Sweet and simple, Archer exercises an incredible amount of tenderness towards Brian and Charles, and that same tenderness carries over to the audience.  It would be very easy for the film to be grating in its tweeness, but the script eases us into the world and its quirky nature so that by the time Charles is up and moving we are invested enough in our relationship with Brian that we are just happy he has found a friend. The world of the film could use some more fleshing out, feeling akin to an extended SNL sketch at times as we wait for the punch line to land, but the core relationship is what drives the film and ultimately Earl, Hayward, and Archer all find success in their endeavors here.