What curious, ill-fated hybrids lurk in our film industry's lower reaches. This particular bungle begins as a stilted, Farage-baiting social-conscience drama, as Cornish priest Catherine McCormack starts mentoring a self-harming Bulgarian daffodil picker, partly to fill the void left by her eldest daughter's passing. Having taken what feels like several lifetimes to establish this umbilical bond, however, the film wraps it around its own neck, with a lurch into thriller territory that repositions the migrant as an entirely disruptive force. McCormack's intelligence has been too long from our screens, but it's wasted on a film that gets sillier and less sympathetic by the minute.

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