Laundreams

A couple of girls working in a local launderette need a bit of a change of pace and decide to put on a last-minute party when the neighbourhood heartthrob comes in to get his suit dry cleaned.

Minnie (Ward-Drummond) and Leah (Gadd) are all washed up. Their life is just a series of cycles that go round and round and round without much in the way of reprieve, or fun, or excitement. They’ve been working in the launderette long enough to get to know the locals, as well some of their dirty habits along with their dirty linen, too. Peter (Fielder), the aging local kook, likes to drop in from time to time to see how the girls are doing, but sometimes he’s more trouble than he’s worth as his idiotic ways offer little in the way of actual relief from the drudgery of the days.

Today, however, Danny (Essiedu), also known as Mr London, has come in to get his suit dry cleaned, and the girls jump at the chance to hang off of him and shower him with praise and attention. Embarrassed by the fact that she has for some reason dyed her eyebrows pink, Leah makes up the excuse that they’re having an impromptu party that evening in the launderette, prompting Danny to say that he’ll come along. Cue a montage of dressing up scenes and catwalking in the backrooms, as the girls prepare for a night that they seem to have been waiting a lifetime for.

Laundreams is the baby of Amber Gadd and Evie Ward-Drummond, who have both written, directed, and starred in this fifteen-minute short film. Their camaraderie together is supposed to be the linchpin for the humour, and therefore the entire scenario, of the short they have created for themselves, and the film basically lives or dies off of how that humour translates to the audience. Helping them along with this, is Nanu Segal’s cinematography which tries to bring in as much colour and excitement into the grey walls of the launderette as possible, and Siim Skepast’s audio design, which brings us from the dull droning of the machines into the life and soul of the party as the music and the dancing get into full swing.

Sadly, a lot of what’s been written and what’s being said doesn’t ever reach the audience, as the humour is often too personal to the writers to really entertain anyone outside of the launderette. There’s a whole bunch of mumbling going on, too, that stops certain lines from reaching the ears of the audience and causes a break in the connection with the characters. The audio recording just seems slightly off when matched to the visuals, and there’s an off-kilter feel to the whole affair that only comes across as badly done, rather than funny or entertaining in any way.

Thankfully, most of the technical aspects of the film really pick up the slack from the writing and add a lot to the feel of the giddy day experienced in the launderette. The original music is sparky and fitting, while Gadd and Ward-Drummond’s direction throws in some nice shots here and there, of the girls at their most vulnerable, that are interesting if not entirely humorous. There’s a lot of heart that’s attached to the Laundreams of the girls, it’s just that some of it gets muddied in with the dirty washing and the rest of it, that in the end leaves the audience hanging out to dry.

Laundreams will be screening at BFI’s London Film Festival 2026.