A Monster Calls review: Sad and true and perfectly beautiful

“Tell me your nightmare...” booms a hulking Ent-alike creature at a young boy, “and that will be your truth.” It’s just another rotten day for Conor (Lewis MacDougall), a kid struggling with an apparently incurable illness afflicting his mother (Felicity Jones) and merciless schoolyard bullies.

Working with cinematographer Oscar Faura, director JA Bayona (The Orphanage, The Impossible) filters everything through the prism of his young hero: truths are muffled and beyond closed doors, anger is unbridled and confusion is rife. Against this backdrop,

Conor is visited by an enormous creature (voiced by Liam Neeson) who arises nightly from the graveyard next door.

The monster is a storyteller whose tales deconstruct Conor’s complicated feelings about his tragic situation and the adults around him. What if his clucking, concerned grandmother (Sigourney Weaver) isn’t the witch Conor imagines? What if his estranged dad (Toby Kebbel) isn’t a dashing prince, after all?

This much is certain: you’re going to need a bigger handkerchief.

Bog Child author Siobhan Dowd died before she could complete A Monster Calls so the task fell to Patrick Ness, who, working alongside illustrator Jim Kay, did a splendid job. The film honours the source material by retaining its pain, poignancy and playfulness. A terrific cast of grown-ups – Weaver, Neeson and Jones – bounces off the young Lewis MacDougall as he hits his stride.

In a movieverse of meaningless CG goop, Neeson's performance-capture creature-work is a marvel. In a world where even supposedly highbrow drama condescends to adult audiences, A Monster Calls refuses to patronise any age.

The film is a hard sell: its imposing central theme is how to talk to loved ones and children about mortality. Bayona and company bravely gamble that there are still families and friends who love to go to the cinema and have a meaningful conversation afterwards. Let’s hope they’re right.