That They May Face the Rising Sun (2023)

In the early 1980s, Joe Ruttledge (Barry Ward) and his wife Kate (Anna Bederke) leave London behind and settle in Joe’s native rural Ireland, next to a quiet lake and among the familiar fields of his childhood. Their move isn’t dramatic—it’s deliberate: a writer and an artist seeking a simpler life, more connection, and a place to breathe.

What immediately stands out is the film’s embrace of the everyday. It charts a year in this lakeside community: haymaking, market days, the changing seasons, neighbours gathering, whispers of memory and longing. The drama isn’t built on a high-stakes plot twist but on the texture of ordinary lives, lived with dignity and attention.

Kate and Joe become part of that community—he writes, she photographs and makes art from the land—and their home becomes a hub. Locals drift in: an older man fishing, a neighbour returning from England, conversations around the kitchen table about life, regret, and the threads of belonging. It's a film steeped in nature, in the passing light, in the terrain of rural Ireland as much as in the hearts of its characters.

Why this film is especially compelling:

• Immersive atmosphere & setting: The cinematography invites you to slow down—cloud-scapes, birdsong, the lake’s surface, the gentle labour of the land become part of the story. Critics compare the feel to the contemplative cinema of Yasujirō Ozu. 

• Reflection on life, change and place: Joe and Kate’s move from city to rural life raises universal questions: what holds us, what we leave behind, what we try to build. For viewers drawn to character journeys and emotional nuance, this delivers.

• Everyday characters, understated drama: Rather than conflict-driven melodrama, the film observes people in their milieu—neighbours, friends, former emigrants, local labourers—each quietly resilient. The strength lies in subtlety.

• Deep sense of time and community: The narrative structure is deliberately non-traditional: no ticking clock, no blockbuster build-up. Instead, it invites you into rhythm—of seasons, of community life, of returning and taking root. This can be deeply rewarding if you’re open-minded.

In sum: That They May Face the Rising Sun is not about what happens — it’s about what it feels like when you step into a place, live among people, witness small things, and let the landscape and relationships carry their weight. If you enjoy films that are meditative, human-centred, beautifully observed and rooted in a strong sense of place, this one offers a rich, quietly powerful experience.