Playing a raging but inwardly terrified housewife, the actor and a fine supporting case are the intense focus of a story that cries out for closure

Anyone who has ever heard the director Mike Leigh interviewed will know that he is not a man who is given to enthusiasm. He doesn’t effuse; rather he growls, a bristly, whiskery warning to the world to keep its distance. Listening to him, you could be forgiven for assuming that, with a career spanning more than half a century, seven Oscar nominations, a Cannes Palme d’Or (for Secrets & Lies) and a Venice Golden Lion (for Vera Drake), Leigh is not much of a fan of anything to do with the film industry. But then you watch one of his films – his latest, Hard Truths, for example – and it becomes clear that there is one passion that remains undimmed over the years, one thing that he cherishes above all others. And that is actors and their craft.

The British director has a distinctive way of working that amplifies and embraces the contribution of his cast. This is not just a case of handing an actor a few inert lines on page and hoping for the best. His films are born out of an extended process of workshopping and rehearsals. Dialogue is chewed over; characters are fully lived in; stories are grown out of the fertile collaboration between director and performers. It’s a way of working that has pros and cons for the final film, but what’s undeniable is that Leigh’s method has helped give birth to some viscerally powerful performances over the years, the latest of which is a quite remarkable Bafta-nominated, British independent film awards-winning turn from Marianne Jean-Baptiste in the central role of housewife Pansy.