“I’m not running away.  I like it here.” This is Tom, a tennis pro living on a sweltering resort island, caught walking a knife-edge between denial and self-reflection. It’s never made clear exactly what Tom (Sam Riley) is running from in director Jan-Ole Gerster’s newest film, Islands, but that is by design.  We don’t need to know what he is specifically avoiding because he is quite clearly running from everything.

In the film’s first scene, Tom awakens face down in a sand dune. Covered in sweat and grime from partying the night before, he looks around, dumbfounded, clearly unsure of how he arrived at this particular place. The scene tells us everything we need to know about Tom and the life he has chosen. At first, it appears to be a paradise, but it is in fact a prison, or perhaps purgatory, of his own making.  He wakes up, teaches tennis, drinks from a bottle stashed in his supply closet, teaches more tennis, parties, and then wakes up somewhere strange with little memory of the night before.

It’s unclear how long this cycle has been playing out, as both Tom and the unnamed island he lives on (Fuerteventura, in real life) seem to exist outside of time.  As a deliberate choice, it helps illuminate both the state Tom lives in (the contrast between his lifestyle and the starkly beautiful desert landscape almost feels like cheating) and the questions the film asks.

The monotomy is finally interrupted by the arrival of a young family: Anne (Stacy Martin), Dave (Jack Farthing), and their young son, Anton (Dylan Torrell). After a tennis lesson for Anton and a bit of complaining from Dave about their room, Tom arranges a room upgrade and, just like that, he becomes embroiled in their lives. This is not something he’s equipped to handle, and it is made worse when, after a night of drinking, Dave goes missing.

Islands then proceeds at a languid pace, which is also by design. Tom wants to do right by Anne and Anton, but is unconvinced of his own ability to help or his own worthiness. His relationship with them is one underscored by desire, and while the story of them navigating Dave’s disappearance and the subsequent investigation is told directly, the story of that desire unfolds almost entirely through innuendo and implication.

While it is slow, it’s a compelling watch thanks to solid performances from Riley, Martin, and Farthing.  Farthing plays Dave almost too well. Dave is a father who laments the freedom he had before becoming a parent, and a man that will put his own needs ahead of his family’s, nearly to a fault; in short, he’s a selfish prick and Farthing exudes the exact kind of entitlement, superiority, and dismissiveness that only a middle-class Englishman can pull off.  Martin is far more mercurial in her role, oscillating between frustration and acceptance of her husband. But once Dave goes missing, she becomes a different animal altogether.

It’s Riley that anchors the storytelling, though.  Tom is a sad sack loser, but also very empathetic, which makes him an excellent tennis coach and great with kids.  He’s running, and he’s lost, but this new connection with Anne offers him a glimpse at what his life could actually be. The slow burn of his transition away from sweat-drenched ne’er-do-well works extremely well, and is told as much through body language and simple reactions as it is through any dialogue.

Islands is a film that doesn’t demand your attention but does reward it. It exists in a place of both distance and familiarity for the viewer, and those who have felt lost at some point in their in life will surely connect with it.  In the end, the film examines not just life on an island, but the islands we sometimes create for ourselves.  It asks how one escapes a life lacking direction, whether that is the same as living on a perpetual vacation. It then ends on an ambiguous note, leaving us to answer the questions for ourselves. Told slowly and in so much subtext, Islands is a film that will keep you thinking and feeling for some time to come.

Islands is in cinemas starting January 30.