A Deceptive and Subtle Gem of Independent Cinema

Every now and then, a film comes along that quietly reshapes your expectations of its genre-Relay, the new action-thriller starring Riz Ahmed, Lily James, and Sam Worthington, is just that kind of surprise. 

With director David Mackenzie at the helm—whose previous work includes the hard-edged Hell or High Water—one might expect gritty shootouts and textbook suspense. But Relay slips beneath those assumptions, deftly blending high-stakes intrigue with the delicate ache of romantic tragedy.

At the heart of Relay is Riz Ahmed’s character—a professional broker in the grey zone of the corporate criminal underworld, whose main rule is never to get personally involved. When Lily James enters as a client in mortal danger, Ahmed’s broker is forced to break his cardinal rule to protect her, drawing him—and us—into a web of decisions where every move has unpredictable consequences. The narrative is deceptively quiet, winding rather than sprinting through its reveals, pulling us in with moments of tension that are as much emotional as physical.

What sets Relay apart is its exploration of trust and isolation. The film asks: Can you afford to trust a stranger when your life is on the line? The broker and the client are constantly entwined in a dance of uncertainty, their fates interconnected by forces both seen and unseen. Amid the action and suspense, loneliness underpins everything—the characters are each adrift, seeking connection even when logic tells them not to. There’s an echo here of what it means to live in a connected world yet still feel profoundly alone.

Riz Ahmed delivers a nuanced performance, one that is both tightly wound with energy and thoughtful in its restraint. His ability to communicate vulnerability behind a facade of professionalism is captivating. Lily James is the perfect foil—her character’s fear never slips into helplessness; instead, she brings a quiet, determined strength that anchors the film’s emotional core. Sam Worthington’s supporting role is more understated but equally essential, lending gravitas and tension that keep the story’s stakes palpable. The chemistry between the leads is palpable, making their complex relationship believable and affecting.

David Mackenzie’s direction is measured, resisting easy thrills for a more cerebral, slow-burn approach. The script layers deception upon deception, never spoon-feeding the audience—the film trusts us to follow along, and rewards that trust with clever twists and profound moments. 

Unlike the sun-blasted brutality of Hell or High Water, Relay favours shadow over light, suggestion over spectacle. The pacing may challenge some viewers, but those willing to engage will find a rich, rewarding narrative.

Comparing Relay to Richard Donner’s 1997 film Conspiracy Theory is illuminating. Where Donner’s thriller is frenetic and openly paranoid, Relay is subdued, its paranoia almost internalised. Both films centre on characters trapped by forces beyond their control, but Relay is altogether more modern in its depiction of interconnectivity—the dangers of trusting others in a digital age, where every connection can be both lifeline and liability. If Conspiracy Theory is a shout, Relay is a whisper—yet both linger long after you have left the cinema.

Relay is a film that risks being overlooked, nestled quietly amongst louder, flashier blockbusters. But its quiet confidence, subtle narrative, and emotional depth make it one of the most compelling action-thrillers in recent memory. 

For anyone seeking a film that challenges genre boundaries and offers genuine insight into trust, connection, and loneliness, Relay is not to be missed. Don’t let this gem slip past you—it deserves to be discovered, discussed, and celebrated.

Now showing in cinemas.

-Dirk Lombard Fourie