100 Nights of Hero: Julia Jackman delivers a sensual adaptation filled with queer desire, humour, and politics
Though at times too reliant on voice over, Julia Jackman’s fantastical take on Isabel Greenberg’s graphic novel crackles with suppressed yearning.

Julia Jackman’s playful, sensual take on period drama owes more to Derek Jarman and Peter Greenaway than to the films of Merchant Ivory. Drenched in lurid, neon-laced colours, each frame fuses visual wit with painterly imagery; a suspenseful synth soundtrack pulsates in the background.
In the medieval-with-a-fantasy-twist world of the film, the universe has been created by the youthful goddess Kiddo, but when the project is taken over by her stern and vindictive father Birdman (portrayed with venomous relish by Richard E. Grant), he puts a patriarchal spin on proceedings. On earth, a male judge in a sinister bird-cranium headpiece decrees that noblewoman Cherry (Maika Monroe), not having yet borne a son for her husband Jerome (Amir El-Masry), will be sentenced to death unless she becomes pregnant in the next 101 nights. Jerome promptly leaves on business, hoping his cocksure, libidinous friend Manfred (Nicholas Galitzine) will trick her into adultery. Either way, Cherry’s prospects appear unfavourable.
The central conceit of the film – adapted from Isabel Greenberg’s 2016 graphic novel, itself inspired by The Thousand and One Nights – is that Cherry’s maid Hero (Emma Corrin) tells a seemingly never-ending story, which entrances her lady and soon sends her suitor to sleep. A dual narrative emerges, about three dark-haired sisters whose devotion to each other is far greater than to their prospective husbands (Charli xcx portrays one of the sisters, her hyper-modernity deliberately at odds with the setting). A lesser film might have been overwhelmed by the calibre of the cameos, but this is an assured second feature from the Canada-born, UK-based director Jackman. Humour is foregrounded throughout, from a sequence of ornate stained-glass windows (‘Sara the unfaithful’, ‘Janet the barren’) to Galitzine’s faintly ridiculous presence – his puppyish energy and smarmy entreaties don’t quite mask the threat underlying his attentions.
Queer desire suffuses the story: Corrin’s scenes with Monroe crackle with suppressed yearning, while you suspect Jerome would be more interested in Manfred’s advances than in impregnating his wife. An arch, stylised tone goes with depth of feeling, raising serious points about the way women can be discarded if they are found wanting. At times it relies too much on voiceover and its message about the importance of female storytelling is made with an abundance of clarity. But with the number of films directed by women fluctuating between stagnating and decreasing, there’s good reason to spin this yarn.
► 100 Nights of Hero is in UK cinemas now.
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On the cover: the Cornish auteur Mark Jenkin on Rose of Nevada and the alchemy of analogue Inside the issue: As Otomo Katsuhiro’s Akira returns to UK cinemas nearly four decades on, Roger Luckhurst asks if it can speak to our 21st century condition? Writing exclusively for Sight and Sound, Quentin Tarantino sings the praises of Joe Carnahan’s thriller The Rip; Jason Wood speaks to Chris Petit and Emma Matthews about D is for Distance and turning their medical anguish into cinematic wonder; At the movies with Raoul Peck. Plus, reviews of new releases and a look back at Jean-Pierre Jeunet’s Amélie as it turns 25.
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