Relay (2024)

In an era where corporate malfeasance feels as routine as the morning news cycle, David Mackenzie’s Relay arrives with the timing of a perfectly placed phone call. This paranoid thriller, harking back to the conspiracy films of the 1970s, offers a refreshingly analogue approach to digital-age anxieties, even if it occasionally loses signal in its final act.

Riz Ahmed delivers a masterfully restrained performance as Ash, a shadowy “fixer” who specialises in brokering deals between whistleblowers and the corporations they threaten to expose. Operating exclusively through a telecommunications relay service designed for the deaf community, Ash maintains his anonymity while navigating the murky waters between justice and pragmatism. It’s a clever conceit that transforms what could have been routine exposition into genuinely tense sequences of coded conversation and careful choreography.

When Sarah (Lily James), a corporate whistleblower clutching damaging documents about genetically modified wheat, seeks Ash’s protection, the film finds its moral centre in an unexpectedly grey area. James brings a compelling desperation to a character who has abandoned idealistic notions of doing the right thing in favour of simply staying alive. Her arc subtly interrogates our contemporary relationship with corporate accountability—when survival trumps principle, what exactly constitutes victory?

The film’s greatest strength lies in its methodical patience. Mackenzie and cinematographer Giles Nuttgens treat mundane actions—mailing packages, making phone calls, walking city streets—with the gravity of surgical procedures. New York becomes a labyrinth of potential surveillance, where every payphone and street corner carries threat. The relay system itself becomes both shield and potential weakness, a modern take on the communication paranoia that defined classics like The Conversation.

The supporting cast, including Sam Worthington as a tenacious corporate security operative, provides efficient menace without descending into cartoon villainy. These are professionals doing a job, which makes their pursuit all the more unsettling. The film wisely avoids painting anyone as purely heroic or villainous, instead presenting a world where moral compromises are simply the cost of doing business.

However, after expertly building tension through calculated moves and countermoves, Relay stumbles in its final movements. The precise choreography that characterises the first two acts gives way to more conventional thriller mechanics, complete with car chases and gunplay that feel borrowed from a different, less interesting film. Characters who have been meticulous throughout suddenly make baffling decisions that serve plot convenience rather than psychological truth.

The screenplay, which originated on the prestigious Black List, demonstrates genuine intelligence in its exploration of how information moves through society and who controls that flow. Yet it succumbs to the modern thriller’s compulsion to pile revelation upon revelation, diluting the elegant simplicity of its central premise.

Despite these missteps, Relay succeeds as both an effective throwback and a surprisingly relevant commentary on institutional power dynamics. In our age of corporate whistleblowers and digital surveillance, Ash’s analogue methods feel both quaint and prescient. The film suggests that in a world of comprehensive monitoring, the most radical act might be simply maintaining the ability to speak privately.

Relay earns its four stars through strong performances, a genuinely original premise, and a welcome return to the kind of smart, adult-oriented thriller that Hollywood rarely produces anymore. While it may not maintain perfect reception throughout, it delivers enough signal strength to warrant your attention.