Broken English: Unconventional Bio Will Convert All to the Faithfull

Broken English
(UK, 99 min.)
Dir. Jane Pollard, Iain Forsyth
Prod. Beth Earl
Programme: Spotlight

 

My rule for making an exceptional music documentary is quite simple: The film must be able to sustain interest, or in the best of cases provide deep insight, even if you do not care for the subject matter. The vast majority of music docs are merely visual Wikipedia-like entries mashed-up with music clips, fodder for fans but leaving little to either encourage new interest or to go beyond the rote rise/fall rubric that these stories tread out on a regular basis.

Too often, these film rely on nothing more than fan service, with the usual retinue of talking head contributors trotted out to say nice things about their friend or colleague, to express concern at the “hard times,” and then either mourn their passing or champion the resilience of this or that performer. Like with pop music, there’s a time and place for that type of formalism, and making art out of simple chords and simple filmmaking techniques can be laudable.

Yet as Jane Pollard and Iain Forsyth’s deliciously avant-garde examination of iconoclastic artist Marianne Faithfull showcases, one can be experimental while still rockin’ very hard. Gifted with a subject as electric and eloquent as Faithfull, and audiences are granted something truly extraordinary, whether you’re already a fan of the artist or soon to become one.

Broken English breaks all the rules, using a slightly Orwellian narrative device to critique not only its subject but the very notion of memorializing the past itself. We enter the Ministry of Not Forgetting, where Tilda Swinton (perfect coifed and attired in austere, Annie Lennoxian fashion) is in charge of a team intent on keeping the ephemera of a remarkable career from being mentally mislaid. Along with the subject’s interrogator (George MacKay) and a team of research assistants, academics and other interviewees, the film centres around Faithfull herself confronting images of her past.

The meta conceit could easily descend into mawkish ridiculousness, yet somehow the mix of pompousness and playfulness is a perfect formal foil for the decades-long career of the British songstress. From her early ethereal songs through to the angular album that gives the film its name, right through the late-career collaborations with such equally complicated characters as Nick Cave, there’s much to mine from Faithfull’s work.

The rapport between MacKay and Faithfull provides much of the film’s charm, as there’s delightfully flirtatious intellectualism at play as the truth is teased out. Marianne at this time of her life is fully in the not-giving-a-shit territory about being coy, and her mix of self-effacement and recognition of when things are worth being lauded provides both insight and inspiration.

And what a career to celebrate in this fashion! In interviews, Faithfull has always been faithful to a fault, exposing herself in conversation with an army of interlocutor in ways that contrast shockingly to today’s media-trained pop star reticence. Her struggles were the stuff of tabloid fodder, but so to were wildly fabricated escapades that treated her as both angel and whore within the same spread, while others with whom she was connected, including the trio of creatives at the heart of the Rolling Stones, were lauded for their licentiousness.

Exploring gender equity when it comes to pop stardom is hardly an infertile field of investigation, yet with Faithfull’s example there’s something deeper and richer to be gained. The feminist roundtable captured on film, featuring figures like Sophie Fiennes and Sienna Guillroy, could have been mawkish, especially in contrast to Faithfull’s jargon-free articulation of similar themes that cut deeper to the core. The contrast between the adoration at the table, and Faithfull being able to see more clearly her faults, is a fascinating one.

Certain guest performers provide their own takes on Faithfull’s songbook. Beth Orton drags out “As Tears Go By” like it has tumbled down a cliff, wringing out its pathos with a gravelly gravity. The calibre of Courtney Love’s contribution is perhaps the biggest surprise, and her impassioned take on “Times Square” may be among her the film’s finest moments thanks to her almost meek yet intense interactions with the insanely competent musicians who accompany her.

Without wishing to spoil one of the film’s best moments, the contributions of Nick Cave and Warren Ellis also stun, the former providing welcome support and deep compassion for his collaborator. We see the brokenness but also the resilience in a song fittingly titled “Misunderstanding,” and as the film illustrates, there’s understandings to be found within this sea of misunderstandings.

Beautifully shot, musically rich, ambitiously framed in a way that miraculously avoids being pretentious or pompous, Broken English is a film that should inspire even if one doesn’t care about a single note played. For those already fans, they’re in for a treat, while for many of those being exposed for the first time to this legend, they’re in for a lifetime of adoration. The documentary is a perfect encapsulation of Faithfull’s many contradictions, and its unique form, its powerful moments of musicality, and its process of teasing out truth while eschewing hagiography is as inspiring as the artistry being discussed, and a rare biography that lives up to the complex and contradictory character of its subject.

Broken English screened at the 2026 Sundance Film Festival.

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