The high-energy drama tracks the 95-year-old tycoon’s early years in UK newspapers during the 1960s and 1970s. Starring Guy Pearce as a young Rupert Murdoch, the film deliberately sidesteps a villainous depiction. Instead, it frames the Australian outsider as a fearless rebel taking on England’s outdated, aristocratic elite to democratize the press.
A Fleet Street Heist
Adapted by James Graham from his own stage play, the film unfolds primarily in 1969. Murdoch moves to London, purchases the ailing British daily tabloid The Sun, and taps working-class northern editor Larry Lamb, played by Jack O’Connell, to overhaul it. Boyle stages this transformation as a high-octane heist thriller. Lamb zips across England to recruit a gang of misfits and overlooked journalists. His masterplan is to steal readers from competitors by publishing stories working people actually want to read, emphasizing subjects sidelined by the establishment, such as sport, sex, and television.
The film packs enough office hedonism to rival Martin Scorsese’s The Wolf of Wall Street. Yet, it carefully manages its protagonist’s image. Whenever The Sun publishes salacious or controversial content, Lamb makes the executive decision. Murdoch marches in afterward, demanding explanations and acting squeamish about crossing lines. The film paints him as a pioneering entrepreneur, a loyal friend, and a doting father with no clear political agenda. This portrayal might surprise viewers who associate the mogul’s later career with aggressive political maneuvering and polarizing cable news networks.
Cinematically, this project represents the director’s most aggressive return to his Trainspotting roots. He employs rapid freeze frames, bold captions, and a thumping rock soundtrack to propel the narrative. The film even features a stomach-turning shot of a filthy toilet, a direct nod to his 1996 breakout hit. This kinetic style keeps the pacing brisk, though it occasionally risks glorifying the chaotic newsroom environment it depicts.
Venice Film Festival Critics Push Back
While audiences at the Venice Film Festival responded enthusiastically to the film’s frantic energy, several critics questioned its soft portrayal of the media titan. John Bleasdale in Time Out dismissed the film as “a toothless, apolitical film” featuring a “bizarrely moral” Murdoch. This sympathetic approach contrasts sharply with other recent biopics. The controversial film The Apprentice, for example, portrayed a young Donald Trump in a deeply unflattering light. The film, however, asks viewers to root for the man who would eventually reshape global media.
Boyle defended his vision at a press conference. He argued that in 1969, Murdoch was “a breath of fresh air in what was a very rigid British society.” The director also warned against simplifying the media mogul’s legacy. He argued that to “monster-ise” the tycoon would absolve everyone else of their role in today’s populist media landscape. He suggested that the tabloid’s obsession with sales figures merely gave the public what it wanted.
“It was important to us that the audience feels complicit,” Boyle stated. He placed the responsibility for modern media consumption squarely on the public, rather than solely on the executives who built the platforms. The film serves as a stylized love letter to a man depicted as an almost-innocent bystander in the cultural revolution of Fleet Street.
What Happens Next
The Ink movie now faces the challenge of winning over broader audiences outside the festival bubble. Viewers familiar with the tycoon’s later influence—particularly his role in shaping modern cable news and the inspiration he provided for the HBO series Succession—may struggle to accept Guy Pearce’s heroic depiction. The film’s commercial success will depend on whether its frantic energy and strong performances can outweigh its controversial historical framing.
Industry watchers will also closely monitor the film’s awards season traction. Danny Boyle and Guy Pearce deliver undeniable creative work, but the divisive subject matter could alienate conservative voting bodies. Furthermore, the dynasty might take issue with the film’s hedonistic elements, even if they appreciate the flattering portrait of their patriarch. Expect the family to remain publicly silent unless public discourse forces a response.
Ultimately, the film forces an uncomfortable question onto the public: do consumers get the media they deserve, or do moguls dictate the terms? As the project prepares for a wider theatrical release, it will undoubtedly ignite further conversations about media accountability, the legacy of tabloid journalism, and how cinema chooses to mythologize living historical figures.
— Lucas Berg, entertainment desk, AXO News