Regeneration

In the spring of 1917, two of Britain’s most renowned war poets find themselves removed from the front lines and placed in Craiglockhart, a quiet sanctuary set amid the scarred landscape of the Great War. Here, the relentless echo of artillery gives way to hushed corridors where wounded officers grapple with the invisible wounds of battle—fear, doubt, and a lingering sense of duty that refuses to quiet. The film opens on this fragile refuge, inviting the audience into a world where the roar of guns has been swapped for the softer, more unsettling sounds of memory and confession.

The heart of the story beats within the delicate interactions between the patients and the staff who tend to them. Dr Rivers, a compassionate psychologist, believes that healing begins with giving voice to the trauma that haunts each soldier. Among his charges, Siegfried Sassoon arrives with a fierce reputation as both poet and outspoken critic, while Wilfred Owen appears as a talented but anxious young man seeking his own voice amid the chaos. Billy Prior, a working‑class officer whose rise through the ranks sets him apart, wrestles with the weight of expectation and the silence that has settled over his mind. Across the ward, Sarah, a munitions worker, offers a glimpse of ordinary life and a tentative promise of connection beyond the hospital walls.

Rendered in muted, almost sepia‑toned cinematography, the film balances the stark brutality of war with moments of quiet humanity. A tone of melancholy steadies itself against flickers of gentle humor and fragile hope, as each character navigates the thin line between duty and self‑preservation. The atmosphere is dense with unspoken questions, inviting viewers to linger on the delicate act of listening—both to the poets’ verses and to the whispered stories that rise from the shadows of the trenches.

Last Updated: October 27, 2025 at 16:36