Departures opens with the kind of spark that feels cinematic: two strangers collide at an airport gate and the chemistry is immediate. The film, written by and co-directed by Lloyd Eyre-Morgan and co-directed by Neil Ely, follows Benji and Jake as a series of encounters—many of them in Amsterdam—become a pattern of desire, secrecy and control. At its centre is a portrait of longing that is at once familiar and disquietingly specific, a study of what happens when attraction meets denial.
The leads anchor the movie. Lloyd Eyre-Morgan plays Benji, the vulnerable, romantic figure whose inner life is narrated through a reflective voiceover. Opposite him, David Tag is Jake, charismatic but evasive, resisting labels while demanding intimacy on his own terms. Released in UK cinemas on 17th April 2026 and distributed by Peccadillo Pictures, the film has prompted conversations about power dynamics in queer relationships and the emotional toll of loving someone who will not fully be seen.
Plot and performances
The story is deceptively simple: an encounter at a departure gate leads to regular rendezvous across borders. What begins as flirtation becomes a pattern of monthly trips to Amsterdam, where pleasure and humiliation intertwine. Instant chemistry turns into an imposed hierarchy: Jake exerts control and Benji, hoping for reciprocity, repeatedly forgives slights. The arc ends predictably by one measure—breakup and self-destruction—but the film earns that inevitability through meticulous characterization and strong acting.
Both leads have been singled out by critics. Eyre-Morgan brings an affected tenderness to Benji, making his confusion and resilience feel real rather than cliché. Tag complicates Jake: his performance fluctuates between brusque denial and fragile exposure, which prevents the character from being a mere villain. Supporting players, including Tyler Conti, Liam Boyle and Lorraine Stanley, populate a world where friends and family watch but cannot always intervene.
Style, tone and visual play
One of the film’s most striking features is how it combines darkness with sly, whimsical flourishes. Directors apply cartoonish doodles, on-screen lettering and musical cues—moments when Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue or the Hallelujah Chorus underscore scenes—to create a dissonant effect. Those playful gestures, reminiscent of youthful queer media like Heartstopper, are repurposed here to underscore irony and unease rather than straightforward joy. The result is a tonal collage: tenderness, mockery and pain laid side by side.
Non-narrative sequences and club imagery
The film periodically breaks away from linear storytelling into sequences of strobe-lit movement and fragmented bodies. These episodes, inspired by club culture the characters encounter in Amsterdam, act as visual metaphors: in the flashes of light, pleasure and peril blend, and identities seem to fracture and reconfigure. Such non-narrative sequences do more than decorate the plot; they gesture toward a contemporary queer experience where safety and risk coexist.
Themes and audience resonance
Departures interrogates the costs of secrecy and the psychology of an imbalanced affair. It asks why someone like Benji will persist with a partner who refuses public affirmation, and why a figure like Jake insists on secrecy even as he seeks intimacy. The film is frank about the self-destructive patterns that can follow heartbreak: Benji’s spiral into risky behaviour, his dismissal of loved ones’ concerns, and the slow work of reckoning with self-worth are all depicted without sensationalism.
Comparisons and cultural context
Critics have noted that while Departures shares DNA with films that portray gay suffering, it refuses to remain a simple saga of trauma. Instead it synthesises influences: the earnest visuals of coming-of-age queer dramas collide with a bleaker, more adult story about coercion and denial. In that sense, the film fulfills an older demand within queer cinema for work that both affirms identity and refuses sentimental closure.
Ultimately, Departures is a film that will feel intimately familiar to many viewers while still surprising them with its tonal risks. Its combination of strong performances, stylised visual language and unflinching emotional honesty makes it a compelling, if sometimes uncomfortable, addition to contemporary queer storytelling.