Critic Reviews

Leave it to screenwriter Alice Birch—who has brought Normal People and The Wonder to the screen, among her other credits—to adapt Hunter’s delicate brush strokes into a fully-realized painting that leaves an emotional and philosophical impact.

Ultimately, The End We Start From is a success because its focus is not on the tropes of post-apocalyptic cinema. Instead it zeroes in on the love between a mother and her child, and that makes all the difference.

With her actors, Belo captures moments of staggering grief that are moving in their restraint: we deal, usually, with the stricken aftermath.

If you liked Children of Men, chances are you will enjoy this film. It has the same blend of despondency and lyricism, hope and despair, beauty and violence.

A brief cameo from producer Benedict Cumberbatch provides some additional mid-film star wattage. Yet who needs it when you have Comer, a force of nature to rival any city-swamping deluge?

If the film ends up somewhere a little too neat, Comer makes the journey always worthwhile.

Comer’s vulnerability and idealism are authentic as are her determination and a dash of real ruthlessness . . . She carries everything with unselfconscious strength and style.

I can think of few other films that get into the skin of new motherhood, with its formless terrors and fierce, furious primal love, as inventively and effectively as this one.

This may feel like familiar territory to another U.K.-set disaster film, “Children of Men,” or the recent mini-series “Station Eleven,” but Bellow has crafted something singular here. And you won’t forget it.

The End We Start From leaves the audience with plenty to ponder and think about alongside reminiscing about Comer's incredible performance.