A star-studded reimagining of a peculiar British true story has landed at the Venice Film Festival, but Werner Herzog’s latest offering is proving harder to celebrate than his legendary reputation might suggest. The German auteur, known for visionary documentaries like Grizzly Man and Fitzcarraldo, has crafted a fictionalised drama centred on the real-life Chaplin sisters of York—twins who famously spoke in eerie unison and became embroiled in a highly publicised court case during the 1980s. While the premise brims with intriguing possibilities, critics are left questioning whether the final product delivers on its promise.
A Disappointing Departure from Herzog’s Usual Brilliance
Herzog has built a career on delivering films that challenge, provoke, and ultimately resonate with audiences. Bucking Fastard, however, represents a rare misfire. The narrative follows sisters Jean and Joan Holbrook, portrayed with conviction by real-life siblings Rooney and Kate Mara, as their lives spiral into a whirlwind of peculiar circumstances following a controversial court case involving a neighbour. Orlando Bloom takes on the role of the roguish figure who captures one of the sisters’ hearts—Herzog even imagines a brief throuple arrangement between them—while Domhnall Gleeson appears as a compassionate social worker attempting to guide the women toward stability after they relocate.
The trouble begins when the Holbrooks settle with an aunt in the countryside and develop an inexplicable obsession: extending a tunnel they discover in a hillside cave, convinced it will lead them from Ireland to the mythical utopia of Orkney. It’s an ambition that flirts with Jules Verne-esque adventure before ultimately unravelling into something far less compelling. The result is a film that feels perpetually uncertain of itself, lurching from scene to scene without a clear sense of direction or purpose.
The Talented Ensemble Wasted on Thin Material
Rooney and Kate Mara have consistently demonstrated their range and depth as performers, and Bucking Fastard offers them limited opportunity to showcase their abilities. The characters of Jean and Joan Holbrook are underdeveloped, serving more as vehicles for oddities than as fully realised individuals with whom audiences can connect emotionally. The script, while occasionally generating genuine laughs, fails to build a foundation strong enough to support the film’s more ambitious narrative swings.
The decision to transplant the Chaplin sisters’ story from York to rural Ireland feels arbitrary, stripping away potential cultural context that might have grounded the bizarre events in something tangible. One can’t help but wonder what Herzog might have achieved had he approached this material as a documentary, exploring the real Freda and Greta Chaplin while they were still alive. Such an approach would have honoured their actual story rather than treating it as a loose foundation for a meandering fictional construction.
Verdict: A Forgettable Addition to the Festival Circuit
By the time Bucking Fastard fades to black after its meandering 90 minutes, viewers are left with a peculiar sense of anticlimax. Despite featuring an eventful plot—complete with courtroom drama, romantic entanglements, and subterranean adventures—the film achieves the unlikely feat of feeling simultaneously chaotic and empty. The characters’ lives, which should theoretically offer rich material for exploration, are reduced to a series of disconnected incidents that fail to coalesce into anything meaningful.
The Venice screening, which marked the film’s debut, drew mixed reactions from the assembled press corps. While Herzog’s distinctive directorial voice remains present—his deadpan approach to absurdity and his eye for striking imagery are undeniable—the execution simply doesn’t live up to expectations. Even the most dedicated admirers of the filmmaker’s work may struggle to find redemption in this particular project.
Why It Matters
Werner Herzog occupies a singular position in contemporary cinema, a director whose body of work has consistently rewarded audiences willing to embrace unconventional storytelling. When he falters, it matters—not merely because of his stature, but because films like Bucking Fastard represent missed opportunities to explore fascinating true stories that deserve more thoughtful treatment. The Chaplin sisters’ tale, with its elements of psychological intrigue and social commentary, merited a documentary approach or, at minimum, a more disciplined screenplay. As it stands, this Venice entry serves as a cautionary reminder that even the most revered auteurs occasionally produce work that fails to justify the faith their audiences place in them. For film enthusiasts, the disappointment is palpable; for Herzog himself, it represents a rare chapter in an otherwise distinguished career that perhaps should have remained unwritten.
