Empire of Lies: A Quietly Devastating Portrait of Grief and Truth.
Available to see in UK & Irish Cinemas from 27th March.
There are some films that entertain, and others that gently but persistently ask something of you. Empire of Lies falls very much into the latter. Watching it, I found myself not just observing the story but sitting with it—feeling the weight of grief, uncertainty, and the fragile nature of truth.
Directed by Matthew Hope and co-written with Joseph Millson, this intimate psychological drama centres on David “Dave” Harris (Millson), a man living on the fringes of society after the devastating loss of his daughter. Publicly accused yet never charged with her murder, Dave exists in a kind of emotional exile—his world reduced to a campervan, his only companion his version of what really happened.
When a young YouTuber, played with quiet determination by Natalie Spence, arrives to interview him, what unfolds is far more than a conversation. It becomes something deeply personal—an unravelling.
What struck me most was the film’s compassion. It would have been easy to present Dave as simply unreliable or unhinged, but instead, we are invited to see his pain first. His grief feels raw and recognisable—the kind that isolates, that reshapes reality just enough to make survival possible. As a viewer, I didn’t feel pushed to judge him; rather, I felt encouraged to listen.
The choice to focus on just two characters is incredibly effective. It creates an intimacy that feels almost intrusive at times, as though we are witnessing something we shouldn’t quite be privy to. The close-up shots linger, allowing every flicker of emotion to surface—every hesitation, every moment of doubt. And when the interviewer looks directly into the camera, it’s surprisingly disarming. You feel drawn in, almost responsible, as if the questions are being asked on your behalf.
Millson’s performance is deeply affecting. He captures the complexity of a man holding himself together through belief—because to let go of that belief might mean losing everything. Opposite him, Spence brings a quiet strength; her character’s search for truth is never aggressive, but it is persistent, and ultimately, transformative.
At just over an hour, Empire of Lies doesn’t overstay its welcome, but it leaves a lasting impression. The final moments don’t offer easy answers—instead, they gently shift your perspective, encouraging you to reconsider everything you thought you understood.
What stayed with me most, though, was the question at the heart of the film: what is truth when it is shaped by grief? And perhaps more importantly, how do we hold space for someone else’s truth, even when it unsettles our own?
This is not a loud or showy thriller. It is something quieter, more thoughtful—and, in many ways, more affecting because of it.
Verdict: A sensitive, thought-provoking film that explores grief and truth with real compassion. One to watch—and reflect on.
Poppy Watt