Ink, Danny Boyle’s latest cinematic offering, plunges audiences into the tumultuous late 1960s British media landscape, chronicling Rupert Murdoch’s audacious takeover of The Sun newspaper and its seismic transformation under editor Larry Lamb. The film, adapted by James Graham from his critically acclaimed stage play, arrives with Boyle’s signature kinetic energy, presenting a visually stimulating and intensely paced narrative that explores the origins of modern populist journalism and its enduring ethical ambiguities. Premiering at the Venice Film Festival, Ink positions itself as a vibrant historical chronicle, rather than a definitive critique, of a pivotal moment in media history.
A Kinetic Vision of Fleet Street’s Transformation
Director Danny Boyle, known for his distinctive visual flair and energetic storytelling in films like Trainspotting, employs a similar strategy in Ink. The screen adaptation is infused with a relentless pace, convulsive editing, and a curated post-punk, electro-pop, and indie rock soundtrack that deliberately defies period accuracy. This stylistic choice creates an anti-establishment atmosphere, resonating with the film’s rebellious subject matter and ensuring a highly enjoyable, if at times disorienting, viewing experience.
James Graham, who also penned the adaptation, refrains from overt moralizing, opting instead to present the historical facts within a compelling narrative arc spanning from the late 1960s to the 1980s. While the material could lend itself to docudrama, Boyle’s directorial vision firmly stamps Ink as his own, utilizing a dynamic ensemble led by Jack O’Connell, Guy Pearce, and Claire Foy to elevate the story beyond mere historical recounting. The film successfully translates the rollercoaster momentum and extravagant theatricality of Rupert Goold’s original stage production, which first premiered in London in 2017 before moving to Broadway two years later, into a compelling cinematic experience.
The Genesis of The Sun
The film meticulously recounts Rupert Murdoch’s audacious 1969 assault on London’s Fleet Street, the traditional heart of the British newspaper business. At the time, Murdoch was already an established, albeit controversial, media magnate with holdings in Australia and the burgeoning News of the World in the UK. His acquisition of the ailing broadsheet The Sun marked a significant escalation of his ambition to challenge the staid British media establishment. Fleet Street was a world unto itself, characterized by powerful unions, rigid hierarchies, and a generally sober approach to news, dominated by venerable titles like The Daily Mirror.
Murdoch, portrayed by Guy Pearce, envisioned a radical overhaul for The Sun. He enlisted Larry Lamb (Jack O’Connell), a working-class Yorkshireman with a keen journalistic instinct, as editor. Lamb’s mandate was clear: transform the failing publication from a serious broadsheet into a populist tabloid, exchanging traditional news coverage for content that was saucier, more scandalous, and overtly sensationalistic. This strategic pivot aimed to tap into a mass market that Murdoch believed was underserved by the existing press, promising an irreverent and accessible alternative to the establishment’s offerings.
The Faustian Pact: Lamb and Murdoch
Ink frames the relationship between Murdoch and Lamb as a modern-day Faustian pact. Murdoch, depicted as a Mephistophelean figure, seduces Lamb with promises of a hefty salary and a company car, appealing to the editor’s latent ambition and his sense of being an outsider within the British media elite. Lamb, initially skeptical of Murdoch’s grand ambitions and hesitant to appear too eager, gradually embraces the ruthless, bottom-line-driven ethos of his new employer, eventually eclipsing Murdoch himself in his tenacity and willingness to push boundaries.
The recruitment process for the new Sun staff is depicted with fast-paced, entertaining sequences, showcasing meetings held in unconventional locations ranging from a steam room to a Soho porn theater. The majority of new hires were poached from rival publications, particularly The Daily Mirror. Initially, many writers and editors expressed disdain for the idea of defecting to what they derisively called "Rupert’s shit sheet." However, the allure of elevated job titles and significantly higher salaries ultimately swayed them, highlighting the powerful financial incentives driving this media revolution.
Redefining News: The Rise of Tabloid Sensationalism
Once the core team was assembled, a central challenge emerged: defining "What exactly is a Sun story?" The film illustrates this struggle as the staff grapples with crafting content for the new tabloid. While making the paper a commercial success was the primary objective, Murdoch also harbored a subtle desire for revenge against the condescending British establishment that had often underestimated him. Lamb, sharing a mutual outsider status with Murdoch, harbored his own grievances, having toiled as a subeditor at The Daily Mirror before growing impatient with his promotion prospects under its stuffy editor-in-chief, Hugh Cudlipp (Bertie Carvel).
A significant aspect of The Sun‘s transformation, and a point of considerable social debate, was the introduction of the "page three girl." While Lamb initially included "tasteful" photos of scantily clad models, he pushed further, against some internal resistance, to introduce the notorious topless "page three" staple. This move, a bold and controversial departure from traditional newspaper content, became synonymous with The Sun‘s brand and a major driver of its soaring circulation, albeit sparking widespread feminist critiques and moral outrage.
Claire Foy delivers a superb performance as Jules, a composite character who is a significant holdout on Larry’s masthead wish list. Lamb eventually lures her over with the unprecedented offer of her own page dedicated to women’s issues, a role she could never achieve at The Mirror. Jules, an opinionated working-class woman, is disinclined to fill her columns with traditional "fluff" about needlework and recipes. Her drive and confidence match Lamb’s, and she plays a key role in the paper’s decision to run multipart installments of The Sensuous Woman, an American book that no British publisher would touch at the time. This series is credited with ushering in a new openness in Britain around female sexuality, even as Jules later balks at the full implications of "page three."
Ethical Crossroads and Modern Parallels in Ink
The film meticulously charts The Sun‘s meteoric rise, becoming the country’s highest-circulation daily within a decade. However, this success is often depicted as a "raucous caper" that gradually reveals its darker implications. Boyle and editor Fin Oates utilize adrenaline-charged montages to explicitly connect the radical shift of those years—the "dumbing down" and vulgarization of news culture—to our current "post-truth" and "clickbait" age. Ink suggests that the sensationalistic practices pioneered by The Sun laid a crucial stepping stone for an era where biased opinions, amplified by social media, can be spun into widely accepted facts, influencing everything from paranoid conspiracy theorists to national leaders.
Major conflict within the narrative emerges when Larry Lamb charges ahead with The Sun‘s controversial coverage of the kidnapping of Muriel McKay, the wife of Murdoch’s senior executive, Alick McKay. The shocking details of the crime and its outcome sparked a media frenzy, and Lamb’s editorial choices—prioritizing sensationalism over sensitivity—create friction with everyone from Jules to Rupert, and even with union workers and Scotland Yard. This episode serves as a critical turning point, highlighting the tension between journalistic ethics and the relentless pursuit of circulation and public attention.
While Ink does not entirely absolve Murdoch of responsibility for precipitating this "downslide" in news standards, it portrays him as ultimately more squeamish than his headstrong editor when ethical questions arise. This nuanced portrayal, where Lamb often appears more ruthless than his employer, risks leaving a sour taste for viewers who see media empires like Fox News as instrumental in the ascension of the far right. However, the film implicitly trusts its audience to draw their own conclusions, connecting this historical period piece to contemporary issues of information dissemination in the 21st century without preaching.
Crafting the Era: Visuals, Sound, and Performance
Boyle, along with cinematographer Alwin H. Küchler and production and costume designers Carson McColl and Gareth Pugh, excels at creating a vivid sense of the time and place. The visuals often assume the grainy halftones of vintage newsprint, adding texture and authenticity to the historical recreation. This meticulous attention to detail grounds the film’s otherwise hyper-stylized aesthetic.
The integration of Daniel Pemberton’s propulsive score with Boyle’s characteristically punchy song selections is seamless and integral to the film’s energy. Sequences like the staffing overtures, set to Sprints’ “Something Gonna Happen,” or The Sun finding its groove to IDLES’ “The New Sensation,” evoke the visceral charge of classic Boyle films. These musical choices serve not merely as background but as active participants in the storytelling, recalling the iconic use of Iggy Pop’s “Lust for Life” over Ewan McGregor’s “Choose Life” monologue in Trainspotting.
The performances are uniformly strong. Guy Pearce is both low-key hilarious and intimidating as the unerringly self-assured Rupert Murdoch, peppering his conversation with Australianisms and profanity while maintaining a laser focus on his objectives. Jack O’Connell’s Larry Lamb evolves from a mostly reactive and skeptical figure to a tenacious bulldog, no less inclined than his employer to take no for an answer. The scenes between Murdoch and Lamb generate the most sparks, becoming increasingly adversarial as Lamb begins to operate by his own rules, often to Murdoch’s initial dissatisfaction. The ensemble cast, including Brian Gleeson as the plain-spoken news editor and Christopher Fulford as the rough-around-the-edges sports editor, further enriches the depiction of the newsroom’s dynamic, providing distinct character outlines for the new crew.
The Lasting Legacy of Ink and The Sun
Ink is ultimately a rise-and-fall story, not just for Larry Lamb, portrayed by O’Connell with aggressive self-determination rather than monomaniacal monstrousness, but also for the traditional ideals of news reporting. The film starkly illustrates the degradation of what passed for news, with Sun staffers being instructed to write every murder, rape, or theft like a thriller. For those who harbor affection for the bygone era of the newsroom, Ink serves as a rich evocation of a milieu now largely on life support, highlighting the profound shift from manual typewriters and printing presses to digital dissemination.
The legacy of The Sun‘s transformation under Murdoch and Lamb extends far beyond circulation figures. It fundamentally altered the landscape of British media, influencing other newspapers to adopt more populist and sensationalistic approaches to stay competitive. This shift contributed to a broader cultural change, impacting how the public consumed news and engaged with political discourse. The film implicitly argues that this period laid the groundwork for the fragmentation and polarization of media narratives seen today.
Critical Reception and Release
Ink premiered in competition at the Venice Film Festival, garnering attention for its bold style and timely themes. The film is set for a U.S. theatrical release on December 11, with streaming availability on Netflix beginning January 8. While some critics might find the film’s morally opaque stance challenging, its vigorous entertainment value and the compelling performances are undeniable. It stands as a solid demonstration that even talky, historical material can be imbued with pulse-pounding urgency when directed by Danny Boyle.
The film’s strength lies in its ability to present a complex historical narrative without providing easy answers. It functions as a powerful chronicle of media evolution, inviting audiences to reflect on the origins of the contemporary information ecosystem and the lasting impact of decisions made on Fleet Street decades ago. Ink does not offer a definitive judgment on its protagonists or their actions, but rather presents a vibrant, albeit unsettling, portrait of a revolution that continues to shape how societies consume and interact with news.
