We all have intrusive thoughts from time to time, and they usually range from mildly concerning to outright terrifying. For most of us, these remain fleeting moments in our minds, but for others, they serve as an unavoidable impulse to cause harm, whether to themselves or others. This is likely the concept that inspired Jim Broadbent to write A Sense of History, a fascinating one-man show in which he plays a nameless English nobleman who welcomes us onto his estate, and offers us a history of his family, as well as discussing his own experiences at being part of the landed gentry, a pillar of his society that has worked laboriously to maintain the level of elegance and respectability that has always defined those in his family – and he explicitly states the extraordinary measures he went to preserve the legacy that has bestowed on him all those years before. It only makes sense that the person helming this production was Mike Leigh, one of Broadbent’s close friends and regular collaborators, and someone with whom he had formed a strong working relationship over the years, with this being one of their more unheralded collaborations, an opportunity for them to work on something quite different, but still very much within their respective wheelhouses. A Sense of History has not been discussed extensively when it comes to Leigh’s career, despite it being one of his most intriguing experiments, a charming and often very funny dark comedy that touches on very bleak subjects – and if there was ever a time to rediscover a small but impactful work from an extraordinary filmmaker, it would be now, since some of the subjects discussed in this film are oddly quite resonant, even if it seems like an inconsequential little aside for someone known for his lengthy, detailed portraits of the human condition, of which this is still very much adherent, just in a more abbreviated but not any less impressive form.

There is a bizarre tendency to dismiss short films as being insignificant and not worthy of discussion or attention based on their size, and the belief that a film can only be respectable if it can hold our attention for at least an hour, an outdated and frankly foolish notion that dismisses the incredible work produced by artists that focused on quality rather than quantity in terms of length. A Sense of History runs at only 26 minutes, which is arguably not a very long time for a film that proposes itself as a definitive history of an individual’s life – but you can be certain that Broadbent and Leigh made use of every moment in a way that consolidates their brilliance and proves that even with such a short running time, there is never a moment where it feels anything less than totally enthralling. The film takes the form of a monologue in which Broadbent’s nameless protagonist, the 23rd Earl of Leete, takes us on a tour of his estate, being eerily close to those television shows in which we are allowed to step onto the properties of the affluent members of society, who regale us with the history of their homes, as well as their pursuits. The difference here is that his tale eventually becomes increasingly dark, and is less about the history of his home and more his obsessive desire to maintain its grandeur, even if this meant resorting to serial murder, which he viewed as entirely excusable and frankly necessary, since the legacy of one’s family and their ancestral home is far more important than some pitiful lives, especially if they are possessed by people who don’t quite see the importance in preserving the past. It is extraordinarily dark, and how this film packages an entire narrative into less than half an hour is fascinating, and proof that a strong story can be told in very little time, some even arguing that any more time spent on this would have been unnecessary, as the final product is short enough to capture our attention, but also not long enough to overstay its welcome or lose the novelty of this very peculiar but unquestionably fascinating storyline.

I’ve always been a proponent of great actors being given roles where they can be the only person on screen, since nothing tests a performer’s mettle more than having to be the sole character in a story. There are a couple of characters we see in the background, and a brief moment where the protagonist’s children enter the frame, but for the most part, A Sense of History is entirely focused on Broadbent, who delivers a passionate and subversive monologue, speaking directly to the camera and shattering the fourth wall in a way that is extremely creative and often quite impactful. The film takes the form of a man sharing his life’s story with the viewer, speaking to us directly in a way that feels like we are having a conversation with this man, who gives us unfettered access into his mind, sharing the darkest and most sordid secrets with the viewer, who proves to be a captive listener. It is difficult not to fall under the spell of this film with such a magnificent performance right at the heart – Broadbent is a fantastic actor and has proven himself on innumerable occasions, delivering stunning and striking work in a range of films. Yet, it is his performance in A Sense of History that is possibly his very best – he is playing a character unlike anyone he has portrayed before, the level of sinister villainy embedded in this role being astonishing. He takes the opportunity to bring out every moment of despicable charm present in this person, who doesn’t even seem to possess the personality of a villain – he is well-spoken, meek and frankly slightly dull, a man who has been given everything he desires from his birth, and thus has yet to develop an actual personality of his own, with the hardships that build character being absent from his early years, replaced instead with a sense of misguided pride in his ancestors, whose legacy he is intent on defending, even if it means taking on the part of a serial killer. Hubristic but captivating to watch, Broadbent’s performance is a masterclass in how to deliver acting that is simultaneously subtle and eccentric. It is difficult to imagine anyone else in this role, and he proves to be quite a formidable presence throughout this film, which serves to contain some of his very best and most complex work, which seems like a risky assertion, but one that seems almost undeniable once we have experienced the true scope of this performance.

Leigh has never made a film that doesn’t have some sense of complexity or social message, with even his most delightful short films and comedies containing an element of depth. A Sense of History is not different, and while the author of the film is Broadbent, who served as the person writing this story (although it would not be surprising to discover that he was simply improvising as they filmed, which is not entirely unexpected with the director’s work), Leigh does bring some of his ideas, being more than just the person guiding the camera as it moves through this grand estate. The two artists at the heart of this film implicitly understand one another, and turn in work that is bitingly funny but also extremely harrowing – for 26 minutes, we watch as someone who seems like an ordinary, upper-crust aristocrat tell us his life’s story, speaking about his efforts to kill his own family purely for the sake of maintaining the legacy of his ancestral home, and in these moments we unearth many sinister secrets that show that these people are not nearly as sophisticated as they may appear. Leigh is an outwardly political filmmaker, and even when his work doesn’t directly speak to the issues of the day, they do retains the same sense of working-class malaise, his disdain for the wretched excess of the wealthy class being well-documented, and the foundation of many of his films. A Sense of History doesn’t have nearly as much time as it would need to fully unpack these ideas, but we can see that in absolutely every frame of this film, there is something exceptionally valuable in terms of a deeper message, something that Leigh and Broadbent make sure to emphasise throughout this compact satire. Their work navigates the very narrow boundary between obvious political discourse and subversive satire, and every detail contained in this story is well-constructed and meaningful, something that we don’t often find factoring into many similarly themed films. There is a lot of meaning embedded in this film, and it is both a delight and an ordeal to discover the many hidden details at the heart of this film.

If there is any reason behind A Sense of History not being widely respected or even just known outside the circle of devotees to Leigh, it would have to do with the fact that this is not a very long film, and that those who are aware of its existence just view it as a footnote in the director’s career, or simply an opportunity for a very talented actor to have a showcase entirely for his talents. Yet, as we’ve seen from the highly-acclaimed versions of Alan Bennett’s Talking Heads (with “Bed Among the Lentils” being one of the greatest pieces of acting in both adaptations, on behalf of Maggie Smith and Lesley Manville), that an entire story can be told exclusively through a monologue, and that length has very little bearing on the impact these films can have, granted they are performed by someone who understands the responsibility they have to hold our attention. Broadbent is the perfect vessel for the thematic content of this story, and commands the screen with such a fervent dedication to this material, we struggle to realize the actual scope of what is being said until the very end, where we are struck with a truly terrifying realization that people such as this do exist within our society, which is built on secrets and lies that would shock even the most open-minded people. A Sense of History is a fascinating document of the debauchery of the upper class, delivered by someone whose career has been about showing the fallacies of the class system in vivid detail. It is dark and bitingly funny, the perfect small-scale satire that feels genuinely very complex but also effortlessly easy to understand, the broad conceptual tenets that drive the story. It is an essential work, both in terms of Leigh’s directorial career and for Broadbent’s performance, both delivering exceptional and remarkably complex work that is sardonic, strange and entirely unforgettable, and proof that some of the most impactful stories are those which take very little time to tell, but linger with the viewer long after they have concluded.