Glenrothan (dir. Brian Cox)

by Jack Martin | Apr 14, 2026

Certificate: 12A

Running Time: 99 mins

UK Distributor: Lionsgate

UK Release Date: 17 April 2026

WHO’S IN GLENROTHAN?

Alan Cumming, Brian Cox, Shirley Henderson, Alexandra Shipp, Siobhan Redmond, John Ritchie, Nicole Ansari-Cox, Joanne Thomson, Jess Douglas-Welsh, Aidan Redmond, Alexandra Wilkie

WHO’S BEHIND THE CAMERA?

Brian Cox (director), David Ashton and Jeff Murphy (writers), Nicholas Crum, Phin Glynn, Neil Zeiger, Vladimir Zemtsov and Crystine Zhang (producers), Jaime Ackroyd (cinematographer), David Arthur (editor)

WHAT’S IT ABOUT?

Two brothers (Cumming and Cox) reunite at their family’s whiskey distillery in Scotland…

WHAT ARE MY THOUGHTS ON GLENROTHAN?

If I were Brian Cox and were searching for a new project to make my directorial debut, after a long and illustrious acting career spanning over sixty years, I could absolutely understand the appeal of Glenrothan. Cox, a lifelong advocate for his native Scotland, clearly sensed an opportunity within David Ashton and Jeff Murphy’s script to pay cinematic tribute to the country and all its hidden (and not-so-hidden) beauties, and with firm control over a film production for the first time he could finally let his love for all things Scottish flow freely in the breeze.

Unfortunately for Cox, the script he ended up going with is pretty terrible. Formulaic, repetitive, and weirdly free of conflict, Glenrothan is the kind of script often reserved for a Hallmark Channel movie that by pure luck managed to sneak its way onto the big screen, and its narrative limitations make for a frustratingly bland watch. Worse still, for all his sincerity, Cox clearly has newcomer naivety behind the camera as he struggles to maintain a consistent rhythm that overshadows the flimsy material.

Cox also stars as Sandy Nairn, the aging proprietor of his family’s 200-year-old whisky distillery located in the titular community within the Scottish Highlands, who one day decides to reach out to his brother Donal (Alan Cumming) whom he hasn’t seen in forty years. Donal has taken residence in Chicago, where he owns and runs a blues bar with his adult daughter Amy (Alexandra Shipp), but after it conveniently burns down off-screen – one of many instances where key events are hastily explained via awkward ADR exposition – Donal is finally convinced to return home with Amy and her own daughter Sasha (Alexandra Wilkie) for an awkward reunion with his brother, as well as his former girlfriend Jess (Shirley Henderson) who now works alongside Sandy as a master distiller. Inevitably, some buried traumas are dug up, old family issues are examined, and all that usual stuff you’d often find in a script like this.

Except, none of it feels dramatically urgent. Ashton and Murphy spend their entire script building towards a reveal as to why Donal left home to begin with, thus causing the multi-decade rift with his older brother, but not only is it very easy to guess early on as to why, it’s also the flimsiest and most conventional of reasons (basically, it boils down to two words: daddy issues). There’s also a point where one major character is revealed to have a life-threatening illness but is firmly against pursuing chemotherapy for whatever reason, until the briefest of conversations changes his mind completely; it’s like if Rocky Balboa in Creed was finally convinced to seek his own treatment after a single chat with Paulie’s grave. In between, the writers pad out what little story there is with clunky expository dialogue (again, some delivered via some noticeable ADR work), supporting characters who are initially established then go on to contribute absolutely nothing, and a couple of lethargic narrative turns which the film’s own marketing spoils by framing it as the primary conflict in the trailers, even though they come into the story much later on.

It is disappointing how much the script for Glenrothan fails to engage, none more so than for Cox who, like most of his fellow cast and crew, clearly went into this movie with good intentions. But the first-time director is perhaps far too loose with his overall grip on the material, causing it to wander aimlessly as scenes are awkwardly spliced together to create a mismatched tone that teeters between light-hearted comedy and stern character drama, remaining imbalanced in both areas. He also signposts his actors, including at times even himself, to do and say things that feel strangely unnatural, almost like they’re in a cheesy and largely laugh-free sitcom (right down to there being a child character whose entire range of both dialogue and delivery feels specifically engineered to have an audience laugh-track following them around). The only one to really come away with a shred of integrity is Shirley Henderson, who’s been gifted with the film’s most complex character and yet is given precious little time to actually make the impression her genuinely interesting role would suggest.

Most crucial of all is the fact that, beyond the narrative and filmmaking fumbles, there’s not really a solid enough reason to care about this story or its characters. This whole situation between the brothers, their community and their family heritage feels overwhelmingly like a situation that could easily be resolved if people actually communicated with one another, rather than let years go by holding whatever grudges they may have. There’s also little sympathy reserved for Cumming’s Donal, a character who’s already fairly one-note throughout but keeps making some terrible decisions, particularly one which involves a bit of potential backstabbing, that make him less and less likeable as the film goes along. Not even the atmosphere of these Highlands, sometimes shot with a pristine lens by cinematographer Jaime Ackroyd, can draw in much investment as they’re largely just background fodder for drama that barely functions in and of itself.

Sadly, it all leaves Glenrothan an unfortunate dud, made by people whose goodwill is strong but their storytelling skills less so. At least Cox is a great actor who can sell his on-screen Scottish sentiment like it’s nothing, though that has yet to seep into his actual filmmaking and ability to pick good scripts to bring to life.

SO, TO SUM UP…

Glenrothan is a disappointing misfire from first-time filmmaker Brian Cox, who’s saddled with a bland and conflict-free script that he doesn’t yet have the directorial skills to elevate, leaving his well-intentioned fellow crew and cast (including himself) similarly stranded with material that never fully comes to life.