‘Onwards and Sideways’ Review: Linney and Ifans Bring Depth to Gentle Parkinson’s Drama

In his latest feature, John Madden’s Onwards and Sideways tackles the realities of Parkinson’s disease with a tone that is both sunny and unflinchingly honest. While acknowledging that no narrative can offer a truly uncompromised happy ending for such a condition, the film discovers genuine uplift in the story of two individuals learning to navigate life with the disease together. The screenplay, penned by Paul Mayhew-Archer—drawing on his firsthand experience as a Parkinson’s activist and veteran TV comedy writer—brings a level of personal insight that grounds the drama, even when the plot occasionally drifts into predictable territory.

Supported by commanding performances from Laura Linney and Rhys Ifans, the film follows two strangers in rural England who are initially blindsided by their shared diagnosis and gradually drawn into a bond. Linney and Ifans deliver work of substantial integrity, preventing the movie from slipping entirely into the anodyne.

The film premiered at a gala during the Toronto International Film Festival and is expected to resonate strongly with UK audiences when it opens in theaters on November 6. Backed by the BBC, the production carries the polish of high-end television, characterized by Mayhew-Archer’s somewhat programmatic writing style and a bright, functional visual aesthetic. Madden, known for his Oscar-nominated work on Shakespeare in Love, eschews cinematic spectacle in favor of heart-forward storytelling and a keen facility with actors.

Ifans, who has often been typecast as an eccentric or misfit since his breakout in Notting Hill, delivers a remarkably straight and disarming performance as Tony Evans. Tony is a dedicated elementary school teacher nearing 60 who has lived a quiet, contented routine since becoming a widower. His stability is shattered when a young pupil innocently comments on the frozen appearance of his right hand during class. After his overbearing sister Liz, played by Monica Dolan, insists he seek medical advice, Tony meets Professor Ridge, portrayed by Rory Kinnear. The neurologist’s brisk, pragmatic approach offers little comfort to Tony, leaving him reeling.

It is in the hospital lobby that Tony meets Emma, a Yank expat and piano teacher who has just received the same devastating news. Emma’s reaction contrasts sharply with Tony’s semi-denial; while he keeps his diagnosis secret at work, she proactively reads all available literature and joins support groups. She eventually finds solace in a Parkinson’s ballet class, a subplot the film treats with serious intent despite its potential for quirky comedy.

Though their meeting is less a romantic coincidence and more a convergence of bad luck, the narrative quickly establishes that Tony and Emma will play significant roles in each other’s lives, especially after it is revealed they are both single and lonely. The script briefly suggests a romantic history between Tony and his sister Liz, but this narrative misdirection falls flat. As their defenses drop, their relationship evolves with the wry neuroses typical of midlife rom-coms, though Parkinson’s introduces complex, empathetically explored obstacles to physical intimacy.

Linney shines as Emma, a straitlaced woman whose gambling addiction is exacerbated by her medication. She balances the character’s dramatic weight with her signature warm, flustered humor. Ifans is equally moving as Tony, capturing the slow process of accepting reality and asking for help. His physical performance mirrors the disease’s contradictions: his bearing loosens emotionally as he opens up, while his body stiffens physically.

The film distinguishes itself through the actors’ diligent attention to the physical symptoms of Parkinson’s and how their characters manage them. While the climactic skydiving sequence—hinted at early in the film and driven by Thomas Newman’s soaring score—leans into hackneyed carpe diem sentiment, the underlying message remains potent: Parkinson’s is life-altering, but it is not a death sentence.