The Incomer (2026) Review!!

Synopsis – Sundance Award winning comedy, The Incomer is a modern folk fairy tale set on a remote Scottish island, where two siblings survive by hunting seabirds, retelling the stories of their ancestors, and defending the isle from dreaded Incomers’. Their world is upended with the arrival of an awkward council worker who has come to uproot them from their homeland on behalf of the government.

My Take – Over the past decade, Domhnall Gleeson has quietly assembled one of the most dependable and eclectic careers in film and television. Whether appearing in blockbuster franchises or smaller independent productions, he has been consistently bringing a blend of versatility, subtle intensity, and genuine commitment to his roles. Even when the projects themselves fall short, Gleeson rarely does. At this stage, his involvement alone often serves as a reassuring indicator that a film is worth a look.

That certainly proves true with this Sundance Award-winning comedy, a charming surprise that is as heartfelt and funny as it is delightfully odd. Written and directed by Scottish filmmaker Louis Paxton in his feature debut, the film unfolds as a modern folk tale set on a remote Scottish island that combines sharp humor, memorable performances, and an unexpectedly emotional core to result in a whimsical crowd-pleaser that makes excellent use of its stunning island backdrop.

Beneath its absurd and often goofy surface, the story also explores themes of community, loneliness, and the divide between urban and rural life, arguing for the value of understanding what connects us while embracing what makes us different.

Sure, its offbeat sensibility and eccentric tone will not be to everyone’s taste, and the narrative loses a little momentum in its closing stretch. Yet the chemistry between the three central performers and the film’s sincere interest in belonging and human connection ensure it remains engaging from start to finish.

In many ways, it feels like a stranger, more playful cousin to The Ballad of Wallis Island (2025) or The Banshees of Inisherin (2022), pairing breathtaking Scottish landscapes with a distinctly dark comic sensibility. Quirky, warm, and unapologetically Scottish, Paxton‘s debut is a charming and memorable introduction to a promising new voice.

The story follows siblings Isla (Gayle Rankin) and Sandy (Grant O’Rourke), who have spent the last three decades living in isolation on a remote Scottish island. Sustaining themselves by hunting seabirds, swapping tales of their ancestors, and conversing with creatures they believe inhabit the island’s folklore, they view the outside world with deep suspicion.

To them, the dreaded “incomers” are responsible for driving away the island’s former residents, leaving the pair as its final guardians. Their secluded existence is thrown into disarray by the arrival of Daniel (Domhnall Gleeson), an awkward, shaggy-haired council clerk and low-level employee of the Scottish government. Instantly regarded as an unwelcome outsider, Daniel arrives bearing news the siblings are unwilling to hear: by government order, Isla and Sandy must soon abandon the only home they have ever known.

From there on, director Paxton wastes little time plunging into the culture clash between his characters. Much of the film’s humor stems from Daniel and the siblings gradually learning from one another, whether in genuinely endearing moments, such as Daniel attempting to teach Isla how to swim or recounting his own mangled version of The Lord of the Rings, or in broader comic beats, including a recurring gag involving Sandy’s fascination with a washed-up sex toy whose purpose he hilariously misunderstands.

Yes, not every joke lands, and the deliberately eccentric dialogue occasionally leans a little too hard into its own quirks. Yet it is precisely the sheer oddness of these characters that makes them so appealing. Isla and Sandy are exactly the sort of people one might expect to emerge from a lifetime of isolation on a remote island.

They greet the morning by cawing alongside the seagulls and don elaborate bird costumes to intimidate any unfortunate “incomers” who wander onto their shores. But beneath the film’s absurdist surface, however, lies a surprising emotional depth. Here, director Paxton anchors the eccentricity in themes that give the narrative far more substance than its whimsical premise initially suggests.

Grief is explored in unusual but affecting ways, while the story also examines the psychological effects of isolation, the competing freedoms and constraints of life beyond modern society, and the tension between independence and human connection. Isla and Sandy’s bond becomes a vehicle for exploring sibling rivalry, jealousy, and a growing desire to forge identities beyond one another, while Daniel’s presence introduces questions of belonging and companionship. At its core, the film is about the universal desire to be truly seen and understood, a theme that becomes increasingly poignant as the story unfolds.

Despite juggling a wealth of ideas, director Paxton never allows them to overwhelm the narrative, weaving them organically into the story rather than turning them into heavy-handed lessons. And by the time the finale arrives, the film embraces even greater levels of silliness, culminating in a chaotic showdown that evokes shades of Hitchcock‘s The Birds (1963). While the narrative becomes increasingly loose and outlandish in its final act, director Paxton largely keeps the laughs coming, ensuring that the film’s warmth, humor, and eccentric charm carry it across the finish line.

Performance-wise, Domhnall Gleeson is every bit as reliable as expected, fully embracing Daniel’s anxious, socially awkward nature while ensuring the character remains far more than a mere comedic foil. Gayle Rankin is equally compelling as Isla, convincingly capturing her tough, wary exterior before gradually revealing the vulnerability and warmth beneath. Grant O’Rourke frequently emerges as the film’s chief scene-stealer, drawing big laughs from Sandy’s childlike innocence and relentlessly upbeat personality, traits made even funnier by his complete inability to grasp why some of his more violent impulses might be considered problematic.

Michelle Gomez and a hilariously intense Emun Elliott inject the film with additional humor while helping explore some of its more thought-provoking ideas. Meanwhile, John Hannah makes a memorable surprise appearance as a figure conjured from Isla’s imagination, lending the film an extra layer of eccentric charm. On the whole, ‘The Incomer‘ is a weird, warm, and wonderfully big-hearted folk comedy that balances absurd humor with genuine emotional depth and charm.