Grow is the type of film that sneaks up on you. On paper, a family-friendly film about competitive pumpkin growing doesn’t exactly scream “essential viewing”, but director John McPhail clearly understands that sincerity, when handled with confidence, can be quietly disarming. By the time the film settles into its rhythm, pumpkins aren’t just the subject, they’re the story’s beating heart.
Golda Rosheuvel is wonderfully cast against type as Dinah, a no-nonsense farmer scraping by on a struggling patch of land in Mugford, a village proudly declaring itself the Pumpkin Capital of the World. She’s flinty, guarded, and visibly exhausted by life – a far cry from the regal authority of Bridgerton‘s Queen Charlotte – and that restraint makes her performance land with surprising emotional weight. When Dinah’s estranged niece Charlie (Priya-Rose Brookwell, in her feature debut) enters her life, the film becomes less about agriculture and more about two people learning how to belong to each other.
Charlie is the glue that holds Grow together. She’s precocious without being cloying, emotionally open without tipping into sentimentality. We first meet her fleeing a children’s home, determined to track down the mother who abandoned her in pursuit of Hollywood dreams. Instead, she ends up on her aunt’s farm, a place as emotionally barren as Dinah initially appears. Charlie’s defining trait is her unusual ability to communicate with plants, a whimsical conceit that McPhail treats with warmth rather than irony. It’s not a gimmick so much as a metaphor for her sensitivity, she feels deeply, listens closely, and believes instinctively in nurturing rather than competing.
That belief is put to the test when Charlie sets her sights on Mugford’s annual pumpkin-growing competition, drawn by the prize money and the sense of purpose it offers. Enter Arlo (Nick Frost), a local with a complicated history in the contest. Frost brings his familiar warmth and comic timing, but there’s a gentle melancholy underneath that fits the film’s tone beautifully. Around them, the supporting cast becomes a quiet delight of comedic reliability: Joe Wilkinson as a disgruntled former farmhand, Jane Horrocks and Tim McInnerny as fearsome pumpkin legends, and Jeremy Swift as a lab technician buckling under absurd pressure. There’s a genuine “who’s who” quality to the ensemble, and the film lets them riff without overwhelming the story.
What’s most unexpected is how cutthroat the pumpkin world becomes. Sabotage, vandalism, and outright cheating creep into the narrative, turning what should be wholesome competition into a moral proving ground, all within the suitable realms of the film’s PG rated personality, of course. Charlie’s unshakable belief in the goodness of others – including Toby the dog – gives the film its emotional backbone, whilst there are playful visual nods to Psycho and The Godfather to keep things buoyant enough for older audiences enjoying its sense of oddball humour.
McPhail’s touch recalls the gentler Disney films of yesteryear, charming, funny, and unafraid of emotional sincerity. Beneath the whimsy, Grow is about chosen family, learning to stay, and discovering that care is an active thing. By the time Charlie’s beloved pumpkin (“Peter”) reaches full bloom, so too has the relationship at the film’s center.
It turns out pumpkins have been waiting patiently for their cinematic moment. Grow gives it to them, and to us, with warmth, humour, and a surprising amount of heart.
THREE STARS (OUT OF FIVE)
Grow is screening in Australian theatres from January 15th, 2026.
