It starts with a drip. Then a flood. Honestly, most disaster movies want to show you the White House exploding or a tidal wave erasing Manhattan in 4K CGI. But The End We Start From movie isn't interested in that spectacle. It’s a survival story that feels uncomfortably close to home because it focuses on the one thing we actually care about when the world goes sideways: keeping a tiny, helpless human being alive.
I watched this film expecting another "the world is ending" trope. I was wrong. It’s a grueling, poetic, and strangely hopeful look at motherhood during an environmental collapse in London. Directed by Mahalia Belo and based on Megan Hunter’s 2017 novel, it stars Jodie Comer as a woman known only as "Mother." She gives birth just as a catastrophic flood swallows the city.
The pacing is erratic. Just like real panic. One minute you’re trapped in a submerged living room, the next you’re navigating the bureaucratic nightmare of a refugee camp. It captures that specific British brand of "keep calm and carry on" that eventually curdles into "every person for themselves."
What The End We Start From Movie Gets Right About the Apocalypse
Most "end of the world" flicks are about the end. This one is about the middle. It’s about the long, exhausting stretch of time where you don't know where your next meal is coming from or if your partner is even alive.
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Jodie Comer is basically the entire movie. If she didn't sell the sheer, bone-deep exhaustion of being a new parent while also being a displaced person, the whole thing would fall apart. She carries her infant, Zeb, through a landscape that looks less like a Hollywood set and more like a soggy, grey nightmare. You can almost smell the damp wool and stagnant water.
There’s a scene early on where her character is trying to breastfeed while the house is literally filling with water. It’s claustrophobic. It’s terrifying. It’s also a perfect metaphor for the overwhelming pressure of early parenthood. You’re drowning, but you still have to be the source of life for someone else.
The film doesn't over-explain the science. We don't get a scene with a scientist pointing at a map with a red laser. We just get the rain. It never stops. This lack of exposition makes the threat feel more omnipresent. You aren't fighting a villain; you're fighting the weather.
A Cast That Elevates the Material
While Comer is the anchor, the supporting cast is stacked. Joel Fry plays the husband, R, and his descent into "paternal despair" is heartbreakingly realistic. He isn't a hero. He’s just a guy who can't handle the fact that he can't protect his family.
Then you have Benedict Cumberbatch and Katherine Waterston.
Cumberbatch has a brief but impactful role that highlights the different ways people process grief. Some people want to rebuild; others just want to dance in the ruins. Waterston plays "O," a fellow mother Comer meets in a shelter. Their bond is the heartbeat of the film's second act. It’s a reminder that in a crisis, communal care is usually the only thing that actually works.
The chemistry between Comer and Waterston feels lived-in. They talk about the mundane things—the things they miss, the food they crave—because when your entire reality has been deleted, the small details are all you have left to hold onto.
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The Visual Language of a Sinking World
Suzy Lavelle, the cinematographer, deserves a lot of credit here. She uses a lot of handheld shots and tight close-ups. It makes the experience feel visceral. You’re right there in the mud with them.
The color palette is muted. Greys, washed-out blues, and muddy browns. It’s not "pretty" cinematography, but it is effective. It mirrors the emotional state of the characters. When they finally find a moment of peace in a remote commune, the colors shift just enough to let the audience breathe, but the threat of the rising tide is always lingering in the background.
Interestingly, the film chooses to skip over the "action" beats. We see the aftermath of a riot at a food distribution center rather than the riot itself. This might frustrate some viewers who want a traditional thriller, but it reinforces the movie's perspective. For a mother with a newborn, the goal isn't to win a fight; it's to stay away from the noise.
Why Some Critics Were Divided
Let's be real: this isn't a movie for everyone. Some critics found the elliptical storytelling a bit too "art-house." It jumps through time. It leaves questions unanswered.
What happened to the rest of the world?
Is the government still functioning in any real capacity?
We don't really know.
But that’s kind of the point. When you are in a survival situation, your world shrinks to the distance you can walk in a day. The film honors that psychological reality. It doesn't give you the "god's eye view" because the characters don't have it.
Honestly, the ending is where most of the debate happens. Without spoiling it, it’s more metaphorical than literal. It’s about the cycle of life and the stubbornness of the human spirit. Some call it "unsatisfying." I call it honest. Nature doesn't give you a neat third-act resolution. It just keeps moving.
How to Watch and What to Look For
If you’re planning to dive into The End We Start From movie, prepare for a slow burn. It’s currently available on various streaming platforms depending on your region (check MUBI or AMC+ in the US/UK).
- Watch for the sound design: The sound of water is a constant character. It’s used to build tension in ways dialogue never could.
- Observe the "Mother" transformation: Notice how Jodie Comer’s physical presence changes. She goes from a vulnerable woman in labor to a hardened, feral protector.
- The "O" relationship: Pay attention to how the friendship between the two women provides a blueprint for survival that isn't based on violence, but on shared labor and empathy.
Final Practical Insights
If you enjoyed the atmospheric tension of Children of Men or the quiet desperation of The Road, this is in your wheelhouse. It’s a film that demands your full attention because so much of the story is told through glances and environmental cues rather than talking.
To get the most out of it, watch it on a night when you can handle a bit of a heavy lift emotionally. It’s rewarding, but it’s not "background noise" cinema.
Next Steps for the Viewer:
- Compare with the Source Material: Read Megan Hunter's novella. It’s written in short, punchy fragments that offer a different, more abstract perspective on the same events.
- Look into Mahalia Belo’s Work: This was her feature debut, and her background in television (The Long Song) shows in how she handles complex character arcs in condensed timeframes.
- Check Local Environmental Risk Maps: The film is a fictionalized version of real-world flood risks in the UK. Looking at how urban planning is (or isn't) adapting to rising sea levels adds a layer of terrifying relevancy to the "fiction."
The film reminds us that the world doesn't always end with a bang or a whimper. Sometimes, it ends with a splash. And then, somehow, we just have to start over.