Director Lynne Ramsay with Samantha Morton

I remember thinking when this came out that it probably wasn’t my kind of film. Well, I’ve now watched it and thought about it – and haven’t changed my initial opinion, but I can see that it used its own way to tell the story.

It begins and ends with flickering lights – so I guess that indicates you can expect only partial illumination. It’s bookended too by Morvern’s boyfriend. The film opens with his dead body on the threshold between kitchen and living room: he has killed himself and left Christmas presents for her. The film ends with Morvern dancing to “Dedicated to the one I love” from the mixtape he made for her. In between she grieves, disposes of his body, claims his novel as her own and discovers Spain as an alternative to a life working in a supermarket somewhere cold and grey in Scotland. In the penultimate scene her friend rejects a return to Spain on the grounds that life’s the same everywhere; perhaps it is or perhaps Morvern can find a change. It seems to be a film about love and grieving – but it’s also about youth and discovering alternatives to the small world you start your life in. Lots of drink and drugs and partying to balance against days spent working in a supermarket. Visually it was interesting and at times madly exuberant. I felt very old watching it, but it made me reflect on the ignorance and thoughtlessness and joyful discovery that youth often means.

So much to make me raise a sceptical eyebrow at the unevenness of the tale and the opacity of the character. Why no Scottish accent for Morvern? Why not report the death and arrange the funeral as his note asked? Can you really cut up a body with utensils from the cutlery drawer? Dig a grave with a trowel? Do publishers normally write out cheques for £100,000 to new authors? Did Morvern have any greater insight into her actions and reactions than the audience did? In a way, it was brutally pragmatic: the bottom line was that Morvern’s life was transformed by her boyfriend’s money.