Released in early March, Sulphur And White barely had a chance to register with cinemagoers before everything changed, but now it gets its second chance on digital. Appropriate for a film where a second chance at life is at the heart of the narrative.
Not that having his first chance severely damaged was any of David Tait’s own doing. His true story – he’s a former city trader who’s subsequently become a tireless and fearless fundraiser for the NSPCC, climbing Everest no less than five times on their behalf – is one of having his childhood stolen and of its lasting impact. Growing up in South Africa with a self-centered mother and a bitter father, he takes a job in a local store and falls prey to a paedophile ring. With the secret buried deep, he goes on to have a successful career, but the effect of those experiences keeps resurfacing so that his marriage to the love of his life, Vanessa, starts to go off the rails and the arrival of their baby son only makes things worse. Until David realises that he needs to confront his past once and for all.
In a film that alternates between two timelines – the South African childhood and the pre-charity days – director Julian Jarrold is determined never to dodge the issues at its core but has enough compassion and respect to give us just the information and images that we need and no more. It comes with the approval of Tait himself, who was closely involved in the development of the project and its filming. The casting of Mark Stanley as the adult David is the key. He’s a sharp-suited alpha male whose ability to hide his true feelings and emotions is an asset in his chosen profession, one where every interaction is an opportunity to be exploited or a battle to be won. But the lurking memories from his childhood mean that he treats life in exactly the same way, and the consequences are inevitable.
Related: Sulphur and White video interviews with Mark Stanley, Emily Beecham, Dougray Scott and more
It makes for a sombre watch. The combination of the subject matter and some unsympathetic characters – Stanley doesn’t fight shy of showing his David in a negative light and, as his father, Dougray Scott is both poisonous and pathetic in equal measure – means this isn’t a film you’d necessarily return to, at least not for a while. Their meeting after years of estrangement and resentment is the highlight, with the aging dad’s observation that “You’re just me in a better suit” opening numerous old wounds with razor-like precision.
Heavy-handed visual metaphors – the butterflies in the oblique title for one – maintain the atmosphere, so Emily Beecham’s Vanessa comes as a relief, providing some much-needed sensitivity in a performance which skilfully avoids sentiment and gives the film some balance. But, despite its obvious sincerity and honesty, it’s hampered by overly slow pacing that makes some sections close to a slog. Sulphur And White is hard going, certainly, but it’s also a film that deserves its second chance, for its performances and its courageous examination of an issue which is still emerging after decades of secrecy.
Sulphur And White is now available on Curzon Home Cinema and will be released digitally on other platforms from 10th April.
