London Film Festival 2026 Review: 7 Miles Out – “A triumph of indie cinema.”

Writer and director Carol Morley is no stranger to mining her past in her work, having previously made the documentary The Alcohol Years. Her latest film, 7 Miles Out is a coming-of-age autofiction drama, adapted from her 2017 novel of the same name.

Set in Stockport, crucially seven miles out from Manchester, away from the exciting post-punk scene of the late 70s and early 80s – it’s a highly personal story of grief, friendship and getting lost in music.

The story follows Ann Westbourne at different times in her young life and the events, people and music that shape her. The timeline is loosely episodic, spanning Ann’s pre-teen life to becoming an adult, that hops to different points in a similar way to Agnès Varda’s To One Sings, the Other Doesn’t. It also shares a similar vérité / documentary style, shot by long-time DoP Agnès Godard

The first part is the most devastating. Ann (played at age 11 by Amelie Hughes) has a relatively happy suburban life, and her family’s financial situation improves when her dad, Ronald (Aidan Gillen), gets a new job complete with a company car. But their lives are shattered when he dies by suicide.

Ronald’s death hits the whole family hard, and the stigma of suicide and how it was unspoken is a secret that Ann keeps for years. “Just say he died, don’t say how”, a friend tells her shell-shocked mother, Bryn (Gemma Whelan). School is full of cruel teachers and bullies who make Ann’s life miserable. Her main comfort is a tape recording she has of her last conversation with her dad. Gillen’s brief performance is cool and detached, with coiffed 50s hair. It may be set decades later, but men still aren’t encouraged to discuss their troubles.

Despite the heaviness of some of the subject matter, including the poverty that followed Ronald’s death, 7 Miles Out is not a sombre film. It’s filled with heart and humour, even in its tougher moments. After being ditched by best friend Bernice, Ann finds a fellow misfit in Helen, whose mum is an alcoholic and whose dad is absent. “My dad’s gone too, he’s not dead, he’s in Skegness”, Helen quips, cementing their friendship.

The film skips forward a few years. Teenage Ann (a magnetic Lucy Halliday, The Testaments, Blue Jean) and Bryn are living in a boarding house, with oddball residents and a nosy landlady. Ann’s older siblings have both moved away. Older brother Scott (Kasper Hilton-Hillie) is now a music journalist in London (inspired by the filmmaker’s real-life music critic brother, Paul Morley), and sister Susan (Hannah McIver) has gone off with a slightly pretentious, artsy boyfriend. Ann and Helen (fantastic newcomer Leila Entwistle) are sticking it to the mean girls and are music mad.

They want to see their beloved Joy Division, but they’re too skint to afford the £1.50 entrance fee and the bus fare. But, music is medicine and a lifeline for Ann and her misfit mates. Soon Ann and Helen rope in new girl Dawn (Eve Baddley), hoping her middle-class advantage can nab them the hottest tickets in town.

This joyful escapade has some of the film’s best scenes, and is filled with excellent needle drops including The Fall, Durutti Column and Magazine. Ann and her pals face obstacles at every turn from idiot boys to legendary Factory Records owner Tony Wilson, who lectures them on Praxis, rather than admires their moxie.

7 Miles Out isn’t just a geographical reference. It’s a liminal space where Ann can reach back to the last memories of her father, where he used the phrase that she returns to. The film shines brightest in the scenes with the best friends and Ann’s interactions with her mother, Bryn (Gemma Whelan) – who is a mix of stoicism and vulnerability as she gradually rebuilds her life and finds herself again.

Escaping into music goes up a gear when the girls form a post-punk band of their own, and the tunes are pretty decent, with lyrics by Morley herself and music by Bad Seeds member Carly Paradis. It doesn’t last long, and Ann’s fear of abandonment hits hard when Ian Curtis, the lead singer, dies by suicide, and life pulls her and Helen in different directions. “People don’t come back”, Ann says a couple of times throughout her adolescence.

The third act propels her to the cusp of adulthood, still obsessed with music and partying through some of the pain. She’s had to grow up fast, too fast. But she’s closer to her mum and determined to have her own music among the crates at her local record shop. Despite its limited budget, 7 Miles Out nails the period detail, with an autumnal colour palette, great outfits and the year’s best soundtrack. It’s a triumph of indie cinema, and a beautiful portrait of girlhood – filled with the people, places and sounds that make someone who they are.