
Lollipop review: This socially aware film is maddening, urgent viewing
Lollipop
Director
:
Daisy-May Hudson
Cert
:
15A
Genre
:
Drama
Starring
:
Posy Sterling, Idil Ahmed, TerriAnn Cousins, Tegan-Mia, Stanley Rhoads, Luke Howitt, Aliyah Abdi, Johanna Allitt
Running Time
:
1 hr 40 mins
Daisy-May Hudson's award-winning career as a film-maker and journalist began in 2015 with Half Way, a chronicle of her family's experience of unexpected homelessness. Lollipop, her first scripted feature, builds on that documentary's poignant account of the challenges faced by a single mum and the family's maddening encounters with bureaucracy.
We're not sure why Molly (played with fraying precision by Posy Sterling) has served four months in prison, but her attempts to chart a path back to normalcy are unjustifiably frustrating. Her longed-for reunion with her two children is spoiled when only her daughter arrives, and then only for a minute.
In common with the frustrated hero of
I, Daniel Blake
, her pleas for suitable accommodation are met with institutional indifference. She's informed that, because of her incarceration, she's 'intentionally homeless'.
Unlike the unfailingly polite hero of
Ken Loach
's film, the volatile, fiercely maternal Molly snaps back and breaks the suffocating rules. That might qualify as a fatal flaw were it not for the sometime support of Sylvie, Molly's troubled, agoraphobic mother (TerriAnn Cousins), or Amina (Idil Ahmed), a loyal childhood chum navigating her own housing crisis.
READ MORE
A karaoke sequence in a cramped bedroom is emblematic of Molly's determination and, ultimately, her small, fragile demands for a dignified life.
Which year did Marty not visit?
1885
1955
2015
2055
What was Clint Eastwood's first film as director?
The Outlaw Josey Wales
Play Misty for Me
Firefox
Bird
Who is not a sibling?
Macaulay
Kieran
Rory
Benji
The actor playing the title character of which film was actually born in the US?
Klute (1971)
The Mask (1994)
Dudley Do-Right (1999)
Green Lantern (2011)
What is the last Pixar film to win the best animated feature Oscar?
Soul
Onward
Coco
Inside Out
Which is the odd period out?
Ms Weld
Dan Aykroyd in Dragnet
Ms Squibb
Christina Ricci in The Addams Family
Who was not portrayed by Steph?
Ally
Lee
Patrizia
Breathless
Which is the odd one out?
Harrison Ford's other profession
2024 Palme d'Or winner
Todd Haynes's notorious early short
Halloween and Escape from New York
Who is about to succeed, among many, many others, James Whale, Terence Fisher and Kenneth Branagh?
Guillermo del Toro
Ari Aster
David Lowery
Robert Eggers
Whose daughter fought the Triffids?
Alison Steadman
Thora Hird
Patricia Routledge
Margaret Rutherford
The film-making is appropriately restrained but effective: the cinematographer Jaime Ackroyd opts for natural lighting and unshowy hand-held camerawork. Several of the selection of the film's music supervisor, Connie Farr – Body Groove by Architechs, Talkin' the Hardest by Giggs – are a decade old, evoking a freer and easier time for the beleaguered heroine.
With Lollipop, Hudson has staked a significant claim in the rich terrain of Britain's socially conscious, kitchen-sink milieu. There's no triumphalism here, but there's enough grit and community spirit to coalesce into a decent outcome. Maddening and urgent viewing, minus the doom.
In cinemas from Friday, June 13th
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Daisy-May Hudson's Lollipop is a fierce and necessary fiction feature burning with the truth of lived experience. In this impassioned story of one mother's post-prison struggle to regain her children, Hudson lays bare the punitive systems that punish poverty, pathologise emotion, and criminalise the survival strategies of women who are already navigating impossible odds. Drawing on her own experiences of homelessness in Half Way (2015), Hudson's debut fiction film sits squarely in the tradition of Loach and Arnold, but with a vital, distinctly feminist eye that frames this story as not just one of injustice, but of structural betrayal – particularly of working-class, single mothers. Molly, brought to life in a raw and incandescent performance by Posy Sterling, is a young woman released from prison into a world that offers neither welcome nor restitution. 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Instead, she presents them as caught within the same system, one that uses women to police and punish other women. It is no accident that the men in this story are largely absent or invisible – Molly's exes, the fathers of her children, have vanished from her life, leaving her to bear the full weight of social and emotional responsibility. This is a reality faced by countless single mothers, many of whom are left not only unsupported but actively punished for attempting to cope alone. Lollipop never forgets this imbalance, instead making it central to its critique. Women are expected to pick up every piece, and when they fail to do so quietly, they are deemed unfit. In its themes and emotional force, Lollipop echoes recent Irish films such as Paddy Breathnach's Rosie and Phyllida Lloyd's Herself. Like Lollipop, Rosie follows a mother caught in a brutal housing crisis, moving from car to hotel with her children while trying to hold her family together in the face of mounting bureaucracy and public indifference. And Herself tells the story of a woman escaping domestic violence who tries to build her own home, both physically and metaphorically, only to encounter institutional obstruction at every turn. In all three films, the state presents itself as neutral or benevolent, while quietly maintaining a web of impossibilities designed to humiliate, delay and ultimately erase women who dare to act independently. What Lollipop adds to this cinematic lineage is the particular lens of post-carceral motherhood and the way social control seeps into maternal identity and emotional expression itself. Lollipop is not an entirely miserable tale, and Hudson's vision is filled with tenderness. The friendship between Molly and Amina (Idil Ahmed) is a lifeline for Molly, the audience, and the film's emotional core. Their bond is forged in shared experience and mutual care, from moments of breakdown to bursts of joy. A scene in which Amina responds to Molly's anger with compassion, only for that anger to immediately melt to heart-wrenching grief, is one of the most powerful in the film, showing how empathy, compassion and understanding can unlock anyone's core and model the need for not just kindness, but genuine support. Sterling's performance carries the film with a magnetic, wounded energy. Molly is not a symbol or a victim – she is a person. She is flawed, impulsive, loving, angry. Sterling gives her a rich emotional interior, and Hudson's writing allows those emotions to live on screen without tidy resolution. Even in moments of deep chaos, the film resists melodrama, trusting instead in the authenticity of lived emotion. That authenticity is supported by a mostly female cast and creative team, who imbue the story with a deep understanding of the kinds of violence that don't always leave bruises, but leave scars all the same. The fact that every adult character—council worker, shopkeeper, probation officer—is played by a woman is deeply telling. Lollipop is about what happens to women when the state fails them, and about how that failure is masked by bureaucracy, protocol and procedure. Hudson's film makes clear that this isn't about bad apples or rogue decisions, but a systemic design that makes martyrs of single mothers and invisibilises the men who let them fall. Lollipop is a powerful, furious, and tender-hearted film. It demands not only that we look at the structures which brutalise women, but that we recognise the quiet heroism of those who survive within them. Hudson doesn't just tell a story – she offers testimony. And it is impossible to walk away from this film unmoved.