Eight (1998)

Set across a few different solo scenarios, this is essentially a series of monologues from the eight year old “Jonathan” (a really quite terrific Jack Langan-Evans) as he comes to terms with the loss of his father and his arrival, with his mum, in a new town. He’s an ardent fan of Liverpool FC, and loves to pull his self-created red shirt up over his face when he has something to celebrate. It’s set as the World Cup is on the telly, and so he is dreaming like so many young lads of being the next Michael Owen but those are distractions from what he really wishes, with all his heart. For his dad - astronaut or not - to be back and for his mum to no longer cry. There is one scene towards the end that exposes this young lad’s vulnerability in a fashion that all but brings a tear to your eye and all of it is accompanied by his innocent narrative that is sensitively crafted to present a touching yet unsentimental exposé on just how an eight year old deals with grief, hope and a bit of aspiration too - and not just for himself.