Ricky Turner and his family have been fighting an uphill struggle against debt since the 2008 financial crash.
With no education or professional training, Ricky is given an opportunity when he is hired to run a franchise as a self-employed delivery driver under the supervision of Maloney, a tough, no-nonsense employer. In order to afford a van for the job, Ricky convinces his wife Abby to sell the family car, even though she uses it in her work as a home care nurse.
The stress of the new job proves to be too great for Ricky. He is always under pressure to make his deliveries in time and is fined if he is late or makes mistakes. Abby also finds her work much more demanding without a car and frequently feels upset by the lack of time she is allowed to spend with her patients due to her demanding schedule.
During this period, Ricky's rebellious son Seb skips school and often gets into trouble with his use of graffiti. Following a fight with his parents, Seb angrily tags over the family portraits during the night. When Ricky can't find the keys to his van the next morning, he blames Seb. Though Seb denies any wrongdoing, Ricky hits him at the end of a heated argument. Liza Jane, Seb's younger sister, later tearfully admits that she hid the keys as she blames Ricky's job for the family's problems.
Back at work, Ricky is robbed and brutally assaulted while making deliveries. While Ricky is in the waiting room at hospital, Maloney phones him and explains that he is facing fines of over £1,000 as his barcode scanner was destroyed in the assault. While Seb finally warms up and re-joins the family, a desperate and grievously injured Ricky drives off to work in tears as his family begs him to not leave.
On Rotten Tomatoes, the film holds an approval rating of 88% based on 155 reviews, with an average rating of 7.8/10. The site's critical consensus reads "Sorry We Missed You may strike some as tending toward the righteously didactic, but director Ken Loach's passionate approach remains effective."[10]Metacritic, which uses a weighted average, assigned the film a score of 82 out of 100, based on 26 critics, indicating "universal acclaim".[11]
David Rooney in The Hollywood Reporter wrote that the film "is an expertly judged and profoundly humane movie, made without frills or fuss but startlingly direct in its emotional depiction of the tough stuff that is the fiber of so many ordinary lives."[12]
Peter Bradshaw in The Guardian believed it was superior to Loach's previous film I, Daniel Blake (2016), which won the Palme d'Or at Cannes.[13][14] Bradshaw wrote: "it is more dramatically varied and digested, with more light and shade in its narrative progress and more for the cast to do collectively. I was hit in the solar plexus by this movie, wiped out by the simple honesty and integrity of the performances."[13] The review in The Times praised the performance of newcomer Debbie Honeywood as Abby, who was cast after a talent search of non-professionals. Contributor Kevin Maher believed the film should have concentrated on her character instead of Ricky, Abby's husband.[15]
Geoffrey Macnab wrote in The Independent that Loach's film "captures brilliantly the alienation and existential anguish that its main characters feel. There is nothing they can do to help themselves. The more they fight to change their circumstances, the worse those circumstances become."[16] Macnab commented that Loach and his screenwriter Laverty "pursue their story to its logical conclusion, ending the film in a way that is both ingenious and devastating."[16]
Owen Gleiberman of Variety writes: "Loach stages all of this with supreme confidence and flow" leading to "a fraught, touching, and galvanizing movie."[14] Raphael Abrahams, in his review for the Financial Times, states: "In the end credits he [Loach] gives thanks to those drivers whose testimony informed the film but who wished to remain anonymous. He is their much-needed voice and remains that of our moral conscience."[17]
Trevor Johnston of British film publication Sight & Sound wrote "While Sorry We Missed You may not be as sentimentally affecting as I, Daniel Blake, it delivers a more nuanced, troubling and provocative state-of-the-nation address. As such, it’s surely among Loach and Laverty’s most sinewy efforts."[18]
