Jailbroken, directed by Vasily Chuprina, is a one-location film set entirely in a prison cell. We follow Joe (Bryan Larkin), who needs to get through the next three days, then he’s out. However, one phone call changes everything.
Jailbroken, Chuprina’s debut feature film, will make its world premiere at the Glasgow Film Festival as part of FrightFest Glasgow 2026. The film surprised me with how it works on two different levels. On one end, there’s a whodunit element of Joe trying to find out who was responsible. On the other hand, though, there is a surprisingly intriguing character study of someone whose masculinity and sense of purpose are being shattered.
Joe is a muscular man who believes crime can have rules, sporting an Al Capone poster in his cell. The poster really reinforces Joe’s views and safety blanket of this idea of how it should work, until he gets that dreaded phone call. Suddenly, cracks start to appear; his philosophy on rules and respect is wiped away.
In a small character moment, Joe, ever-so-loyal, phones his old boss, Sandy (George Drennan), to ask for help, believing that his boss will show the same loyalty and respect that Joe did for him. Sandy, crucially, says to turn a blind eye. It’s a cruel moment as everything shatters for Joe, that tough masculinity crumbling. He is rudderless and trapped.
Going into the film, I really didn’t expect a character study of Joe, who is beyond stubborn, almost delusional, but you feel for the man who has clearly spent much of his youth working for the likes of Sandy. As Naz (Armin Karima), his cellmate reminds him, it’s like a game of cards; it’s all about who has the power. Joe is, and always has been, just another piece on a conveyor belt. Someone else will replace him.
As a result of this study, the Joe we met at the start feels so removed from that aggression, now vulnerable, that you start to be in his shoes; it’s already a claustrophobic space, but now that everything has flipped, crumbling for Joe. It feels as if I am there with him now, which is a massive contrast to that first introduction, where I felt miles apart from him.
I am always impressed by one-location films. The prison cell setting is a really great choice by Chuprina, as the film feels tight and in-your-face. The cinematography by Mark Nutkins feeds off the confinement with intimate moments, the camera work making you feel as if you’re standing over Joe. The film turns the cell into a zoo, trapping Joe. All his frustration, anger, and any vulnerability that should be private are put on full display.
Larkin is phenomenal as Joe, and not just in the role’s physical demands. Underneath all his bravado is intense vulnerability; his phone call with Sandy is an especially poignant moment. When he hears Sandy’s orders, he slouches into himself, and his face says everything. Larkin suddenly transforms Joe from a big, menacing figure into an almost unsure, scared boy. It’s thoroughly impressive work.
Larkin has great comedic chops, especially alongside Karima. They both really sell the idea of Joe as a hardened criminal, and Naz as a young guy out of his depth. Naz is naive and doesn’t know when to shut his mouth, but there is a clear sense that, compared to Joe, he is a very small fish, which makes him lovable in a way. Together, they make for an effective and, at times, downright funny duo.
David Hayman, a great Scottish actor, is also here as Smith, a correctional officer. A role like this shows why Hayman is such a great character actor, even when facing Joe, an imposing presence. At no point does Smith come across as intimidated; he has seen tons of types like Joe before.
With Jailbroken, you get an effective mystery, but what catches you off guard is how soul-crushing it can be. When your whole view of yourself is chipped away bit by bit, you can get stuck in a prison in its own right.
Review Courtesy of Matthew Allan
Feature Image Courtesy of Jailbroken Film Ltd