‘Landmyn’ Movie Review – Is It Worth Watching?

Landmyn (Landmine) is a prickly, emotionally-charged family drama from writer-director Nico Scheepers, centring on a seaside getaway derailed by the arrival of an unwanted guest. Set against the moody, overcast backdrop of a beach cottage near Kommetjie in the Cape, the stormy coastal environment serves as an immediate visual metaphor for the domestic claustrophobia about to unfold.

Diving straight into the deep end, the narrative dwells in the unresolved aftermath of generational trauma as the family matriarch, Annatjie, arrives following a last minute announcement. Estranged, overbearing and driven by a relentless, narcissistic neediness, she immediately becomes the unavoidable focal point of the cottage. Her adult children – though outwardly successful – are instantly pulled back into old, defensive habits as they attempt to nurse old wounds. They find themselves walking on eggshells, attempting to manage the fallout of Annatjie’s moods while projecting their own unresolved trauma and frustrations onto one another.

What unfolds is a raw, unsparing study of domestic dysfunction. Rather than relying on melodramatic outbursts, Landmyn thrives in the micro-aggressions, heavy silences and passive-aggressive friction that define this family’s estrangement. Even as faint glimmers of connection emerge, a persistent sense of impending collapse lingers over their attempts to reconcile. While the atmosphere is tense, Scheepers injects well-timed moments of levity that provide necessary breathing room, alleviating the thick air of irritability that hangs over the household.

“I’m still your mother you know.”

While the plot remains relatively simple – a family gathering at a seaside home trying to figure out a path forward – the emotional peaks and troughs keep the stakes high as their collective future hangs in the balance. The mother’s overbearing, cantankerous and insidious nature constantly commands the centre of attention, while her pettiness steadily undercuts her family’s sense of self and joy. Landmyn navigates a path of emotional highs and lows as the family attempt to regroup, united in their efforts to manage the problem she presents. They strive to remain headstrong and power through the disruption, hoping against hope that she might finally get her life together.

Anna-Mart van der Merwe is exceptional as the pivotal Anneke, striking a delicate balance between tragic vulnerability and suffocating self-absorption. She is grounded by a sharp, responsive ensemble cast including Ben Albertyn as a young man branching out as a playwright, Nicole Holm as a reluctant mediator and Carla Smith as an optimistic daughter. Each member brings depth and emotional authenticity to the fractured family unit. Testament to their strong collective of performances, Landmyn received three acting awards for van der Merwe, Albertyn and Holm as part of the Silwerskermfees.

Shot on location with a loose, handheld camera style, the film captures a documentary-like immediacy. This choice is echoed in the dialogue, which flows organically. These stylistic elements give the intimate interactions a spontaneous, lifelike texture. A creative decision, it also leans into the rhythm that would underpin the tight constraints of its filming schedule.

Following his black-and-white horror Hen – which similarly examined an isolated family in the wilderness – Scheepers trades genre dread for raw psychological realism, proving that sitting with uncomfortable domestic truths can be just as harrowing. While a touch more polish might have smoothed its few rough edges, Landmyn confirms Scheepers as a bold, sophisticated talent on the South African cinematic stage with genuine international calibre.

The bottom line: Prickly