Ambition, passion, and the moral conflicts we keep hidden in the deepest corners of our minds. At the end of the day, when all the noise dies down and we go to bed, there are moments we cannot hide even from ourselves. Perhaps we feel guilty; perhaps a quiet voice inside us gently reminds us that what we have done is wrong. But that voice is not always enough to stop us from taking the next step. Sometimes we silence it, sometimes we ignore it, and sometimes we spend our entire lives accompanied by that whisper.
INK follows that very whisper for nearly two hours.
Directed by Danny Boyle, Ink is part of the Masters selection at the Stockholm International Film Festival. Adapted by James Graham from his own stage play, the film takes us to London in 1969, at a time when the British press was undergoing a major transformation. The story begins with Rupert Murdoch (Guy Pearce) acquiring The Sun and appointing Larry Lamb (Jack O’Connell) as its editor, placing one of the most controversial transformations in the history of journalism at its centre.
Lamb has one goal: to set The Sun apart from its competitors, reach a wider audience, and rewrite the established rules of the British press. To achieve this, he does not hesitate to push journalistic boundaries, sometimes even to the point of erasing them altogether. The central idea of the film is summed up in a principle he repeats throughout: “If it can be published, it should be published”.
Breaking the Rules, Redrawing the Boundaries
What Ink is really about is not simply the rise of a newspaper, but the price paid for that rise. Larry Lamb wants to break away from the distant, traditional, and insular nature of the British press at the time. In his view, newspapers should follow what interests the public rather than belong to an elite circle that dictates what readers ought to care about. Yet this idea soon becomes a convenient excuse for a form of journalistic competition with no limits.
What particularly caught my attention about Lamb was that his ambition went far beyond professional success. We watch a man who wants to be understood, accepted, and recognised gradually become a prisoner of the very system he has created. Each new headline is bolder than the last; each new idea more controversial than the one before. Here, the film questions the journalistic practices of its time while speaking to something that feels all too familiar in today’s media landscape: where does the line between capturing the reader’s interest and exploiting it begin?
Giving the Public What It Wants
One of the film’s most interesting turning points comes with the introduction of Page Three, featuring photographs of young women on the newspaper’s third page. Turning women’s bodies into part of a newspaper’s sales strategy reveals just how far The Sun is willing to go in its pursuit of a wider readership. The issue is not simply about challenging the social norms of the time, but about who is used to carry out that challenge, and by what means.
Jules Davies, played by Claire Foy, becomes the film’s moral counterweight. One of Lamb’s close colleagues, Jules is not afraid to challenge his journalistic approach and the ethical compromises he increasingly comes to accept. Her objection raises perhaps the most important question in the entire story: just because you can make something public, does that mean you should?
In its final act, the film takes a noticeable turn towards a dark crime thriller. The kidnapping of Muriel McKay, the wife of Alick McKay, one of Murdoch’s executives, forces Lamb to confront the boundary between a story’s news value and human life. The tragic outcome brings the question of journalistic ethics, which has been present throughout the film, to a much more concrete and disturbing level.
Still, I found that Lamb’s transformation was not always explored in sufficient depth. His past experiences of mistreatment and lack of respect help explain his desire to prove himself, but they do not entirely account for such a profound moral unraveling.
The Boundless World of Visual Storytelling
One of the film’s strongest aspects, in my view, is how deliberately it moves away from the familiar visual language of period dramas. Danny Boyle does not simply recreate the atmosphere of the era; he pulls us directly into it.
The camera angles, rapid transitions, sudden changes in framing, and 360-degree movements around the characters sometimes make us feel as though we are watching moving photographs, or even a series of posters brought to life. Particularly in the newsroom scenes, the camera circles the characters almost like an independent presence. We are not simply watching the tension unfold; we feel ourselves moving through it with them.
The cinematography, led by Alwin H. Küchler, adds another dimension to this visual approach through its use of light and colour. The conservative, inward-looking atmosphere of England at the time stands in interesting contrast with the film’s colour palette. The colours convey both the social constraints and oppression of the period and the boldness, defiance, and increasingly uncontrollable ambition of the characters.
The editing and music also keep the film’s pace alive. The succession of scenes, sudden transitions, and the relationship between image and sound hold our attention throughout. We see a more restless and experimental side of the energetic storytelling style Boyle previously brought to Slumdog Millionaire. Watching Ink feels a little like being on a roller coaster: we never quite know where to look or what will happen in the next second, yet we thoroughly enjoy losing ourselves in all that movement. It is more than simply watching a film; it is an experience in itself.
For me, Ink is one of the films not to miss at the Stockholm International Film Festival. At times, the film makes us uncomfortable, leaves us frustrated with the characters’ decisions, and even makes us unwillingly admire their audacity. I think that is part of what makes it work. It does not allow us to sit back as comfortable spectators; it also invites us to question our own boundaries and judgments.
I hope all three Stockholm screenings receive the same enthusiastic response from local film lovers.
My verdict: Must go.
INK at Stockholm Film Festival:
19/11 at 17.30 – Bio Skandia (Red Carpet)
20/11 at 17.45 – Biograf Sture
22/11 at 14.15 – Capitol
