‘Straight Circle’ review: Distinctive, satirical UK debut follows enemy soldiers on a desert border

Dir/scr: Oscar Hudson. UK. 2025. 109mins

Two fictitious neighbouring countries have reached a fractious truce following a long history of bloody conflict. But even peace has a frontline – an arbitrary fenced border running through an expanse of barren desert. Guarding it are two soldiers, one from each side. Straight Circle, the debut film from music video and advertising director Oscar Hudson, is a visually striking satire that harnesses spiralling absurdity and a pair of physically expressive performances from identical twins Luke Tittensor and Elliot Tittensor. Hudson, who also wrote the screenplay, is perhaps more at home expressing himself with images than words – the picture runs a little long and the dialogue can feel rather superfluous. But this is a distinctive and original debut.

 Harnesses spiralling absurdity and a pair of physically expressive performances

Hudson has clearly finessed his skills as a visual stylist through the making of commercials and music videos for bands including Radiohead. That stands him in good stead here: Straight Circle is an eye-catching title that won the Grand Prize for best film in Venice Critics’ Week, and also picked up a youth prize for most innovative feature. Following screening at Toronto and London, it should prove to be a picture of interest at further festivals (it will show at AFI and Denver, and likely others). Theatrical interest is not out of the question, however this is a title that perhaps could be better suited to a streaming platform release.

Initially using a split screen (a technique to which he returns later in the film), Hudson gives an indication of the fragility of the peace between the two states. Both are holding extravagant ceremonial events to inaugurate a new and significant step in the ceasefire — a border station that will be jointly inhabited by the two guards. But the timings of the ceremonies are off, and the address by a political luminary on one side is drowned out by a rousing musical performance on the other.

The heat of the hostilities, along with the volume of the PA equipment on each side, rapidly increases. But the truce holds long enough for the two men, Private Warne (Elliot Tittensor), distinguished by his bald head, white uniform and needlessly complicated salute, and Private Arthur (Luke Tittensor), with waist-length hair, luxuriant beard and cooking skills, to take up their posts. 

Their duties are simple: each must spend the day in the punishing desert sun guarding the flag on their respective side of the fence. In the evening, they jointly and symbolically release one of the many pigeons housed in a coop on the roof of the squat brick building where they both bunk at night. A unilateral bird release and a misunderstanding over boiled eggs hammers home the wedge that already exists between the two. But the escalating conflict, plus a messy encounter with a goat-herding nomad (Neil Maskell), strips away certainties. The men start to lose track of which side is which, and ultimately, who is who. 

The performances from the Tittensor brothers lean into physical comedy, with Elliot in particular having straight-faced fun with the buttoned-up theatrics of Warne. But as the men realise how much they have in common (in addition to sharing the same face, both have overbearing military fathers), the performances become perfectly synchronised. Dialogue is spoken in unison, gestures are exactly mirrored. While the story can feel self-consciously weird and somewhat unfocused, the two mesmerisingly odd performances, together with the striking photography and framing, keep us engaged by this oddball allegory.