HOLLYWOOD, CA — In David Mackenzie’s “Relay,” true convictions collide with intimacy. Echoing 1970s paranoia cinema, it favors precision over spectacle and nuance over noise. What emerges is a cerebral thriller that’s slow-burning, atmospheric and emotionally charged.
Tonally, it oscillates between procedural rigor and emotional volatility, transforming a tale of corporate greed into a twisty cat-and-mouse game that’s as psychological as it is suspenseful. The outcome is deeply provocative — one that may feel too brisk in its final beats, yet enduringly resonant.
In its first half hour, dialogue yields to atmosphere. The opening sequence hums with nail-biting silence, yet the visual cues are unmistakable.
Dim light. Lower Manhattan sleeps. A diner glows — neon, flickering. Two men. One briefcase. No smiles.
Watching from across the room is Riz Ahmed’s Ash, disguised as a construction worker — a ghostlike presence at the heart of it all. He sees. He waits. He vanishes.
Riz Ahmed in a scene from “Relay.” (Bleecker Street)
Who is Ash? An antihero living in the shadows. He negotiates covert deals between whistleblowers and the corporations they threaten to expose, conducting all of his transactions through a relay service originally meant for the hearing impaired. Using a third-party operator that reads aloud to the recipient whatever Ash inputs on a teletypewriter, he can keep his identity hidden, avoid traceable contact and protect whistleblowers throughout the process.
He’s off the grid and emotionally guarded — until he meets Sarah (Lily James), a biotech researcher who’s stolen damning evidence about carcinogenic genetically modified wheat. Hunted by a corporate slayer, she turns to Ash for protection.
The big twist? Ash grows emotionally attached. Their clandestine meeting raises the stakes: can he protect Sarah and preserve his anonymity?
From performances and direction to screenplay, cinematography and score, restraint permeates every major layer of “Relay,” crafting a visual language where silence and control define the movie’s emotional terrain.
Ahmed delivers a magnetic performance of gravitas and quiet intensity. His portrayal of Ash is layered and restrained, revealing a man whose silence is golden, physical stillness deliberate, and every move constantly calculated. Meanwhile, James imbues Sarah with defiance, blending fragility with moral resolve. Together, their unspoken intimacy electrifies the movie’s emotional core.
Mackenzie, known for “Hell or High Water,” dials down the machismo and amps up the moral complexity. His direction is meticulous, favoring silence and psychological tension over high-octane action. The homage to classic thrillers is clear but never overwrought — think “The Conversation” meets “Michael Clayton.”
Lily James in a scene from “Relay.” (Bleecker Street)
Justin Piasecki’s elliptical screenplay, suffused with procedural intrigue, lets both subtext and silence shape character and suspense. Giles Nuttgens’ moody cinematography evokes isolation and constant observation, while Tony Doogan’s ambient score pulses like a heartbeat on edge, thrumming with paranoia that lurks in silence. Together, they form a subtle bond that propels Mackenzie’s taut vision into something that resonates across every frame.
Yet for all its precision and mood, “Relay” occasionally teeters under the weight of its own austerity. The emotional stakes, though initially gripping, begin to feel underdeveloped — particularly in the second act, when the urgency demanded by the premise should build to a crescendo.
Instead, momentum slackens as the film pivots toward procedural detail, cryptic dialogue, and Ash’s internal conflict. These elements, while thematically rich, begin to obscure character clarity and stall emotional escalation.
Still, the movie remains undeniably hypnotic in its execution — where silence speaks volumes, and stillness crackles with tension, casting a haunting spell that meditates on trust, anonymity and the fragile line between true convictions and intimacy.
In the end, “Relay” finds its pulse in Ahmed’s taut intensity and James’s piercing vulnerability — grounding Mackenzie’s quiet vision in raw, human tension.