Brian Cox & Alan Cumming in Cox’s Directorial Bow

One of our very best actors, Brian Cox, makes a somewhat belated directorial debut with the Toronto world premiere Glenrothan, in which he also stars. Set in his native Scotland and lovingly photographed, the film tantalizes even without a terribly original story. Family conflicts ripple and get fairly predictably resolved. But the cast gallops right past the clichés.

To tell the story of two estranged brothers, Cox turned to another Scottish-born actor, Alan Cumming, who gives the most surprising and resonant performance in the movie. The brothers have not communicated for many years. Cox’s Sandy runs a family distillery in the Scottish Highlands. Cummings’ Donal has been running a music club in Chicago. But when that is destroyed in a fire, he decides to return to Scotland, along with his daughter (Alexandra Shipp) and granddaughter (Alexandra Wilkie), to see if there is any chance to renew family ties.

The outcome of that long-simmering family quarrel is never really in much doubt, but there are still a few neat surprises involving a couple of rare bottles of whiskey and the fate of two family businesses. Cox is now probably best known for playing Logan Roy in the multi-Emmy winning series, Succession, for several seasons. But he also has had many vivid film roles, including the first incarnation of Hannibal Lecter in Michael Mann’s movie Manhunter. He’s graced Hollywood epics Braveheart, Troy, The Bourne Identity, mixed in with smaller gems like Rushmore, Adaptation and L.I.E. It’s a pleasure to see him at home in the Highlands, and as a director he’s predictably generous with his fellow actors.

Cox was wise to hand the co-star role to Cumming, who shatters his usual image by “butching up,” as the actor noted at the festival. (This film offers a good lesson in the rewards of refusing to typecast actors.) Cox helps Cumming to bring off one of the most rewarding performances of his long career. Shipp also scores as the daughter who knows just when to take charge of her father, and veteran British actress Shirley Henderson proves that she has the presence to make the most of a smaller role as a workhorse at the distillery, who earns a satisfying payday at the end.

Even though the film runs just 97 minutes, it sometimes seems padded and plucks a bit too strenuously at the heartstrings. The overemphatic score by Tommy Reilly and Roddy Hart only exacerbates this tendency to overstate. Cox sometimes needs to place more trust in the actors and the central story without resorting to sentimental flourishes.

Yet the superb cinematography by Jaime Ackroyd helps to ride over excesses in the direction. Cox’s love of the Scottish countryside is apparent, and the beauty of the landscapes works on Donal as he comes to appreciate the homestead that he abandoned. Even those who have an aversion to earnest tales of family reconciliations may give this likable picture a pass. In interviews he gave in Toronto, Cox has said he might direct again, and we look forward to the results.