The art of a conspiracy theorist is to question everything. Agreeing to an interview, Dave (Joseph Millson) has to confront some unpleasant truths about the death of his daughter, and by going further and further into the investigation surrounding her possible murder, the central protagonist finds himself stuck in a conspiracy of his very own.

Paternakl grief one of life’s ultimate pains, perhaps the greatest a male will ever experience. The tragic throughline of The Godfather Part III (Francis Ford Coppola, 1990) is that of Michael Corleone cradling his Mary, a child he was supposed to steer away from violence. Empire of Lies takes a different look at that particular psychological trauma: exploring an unsolved crime that is deeply personal.

Millson is formidable as the lead hero. Too manly to breakdown, Dave still harbours sorrow behind his yearning eyes. Initially reluctant to place his trust in a journalist (played with diplomatic poise by Natalie Spence), Dave comes to see it as a vessel to displaced information. More and more, Dave has to combat his demons, etched behind his brain. Fear, paranoia and anger are plastered across his itchy nose. In an almost tantric depiction of fury, Dave finds himself stuck in a vehicle, the British countryside surrounding him, yet can only move his lips in a state of shock.

When the journalist comes to his cabin, Dave imagines her as a type of demonic creature, such is his lack of contact with the material world. “Go back to the swamp”, he bellows and grunts, slowly rising to see a fairly beautiful woman deeply invested in his personal life. For the most part Millson and Spence are the only actors onscreen. Occasionally, the setting gets dull, but in place of explosive visuals, the viewers get to see two artists charged on their heroes understanding of duty and honesty.

When the unnamed journalist uncovers Dave, he’s assured he’s in charge of his reality as he lives a solitary life unmarked by cameras and shops.Instead, this man dwells in a vehicle on a field. He tackles the female writer by challenging her views on global overpopulation and an abundance of propaganda that suggests global warming is ruining the world. Over the dialogue, man and woman realise they are more alike than they had thought; one discriminated by her gender, the latter dismissed due to his supposed mental health issues.

As a structure, the feature grows tenser the darker the night becomes. The less the duo can see their environment, the greater their doubts of one another deepens. “Why won’t you get justice for your daughter today?”, she screams, agitated that any parent could abandon such a personal crusade. Dave howls into a tyre in order to suppress a forthcoming tear animating behind his pupils.

Dave would rather march on from the past rather than tackle it, a decision that baffles his new-found friend. What the writer doesn’t realise is the density of the pain Dave is going through. He has more depth than the two-dimensional than the mask he projects to the world at large. It’s a hard-edge that scarcely manifests beyond a growl and a grunt, and by answering her questions, Dave uncovers a side to himself he desperately tried to vacate. Nobody can exit their history, no matter how unpleasant it is.

Empire of Lies is in UK cinemas on Friday, March 27th.