It might seem reductive, considering that this is a deeply personal piece of filmmaking but there are shades in here of Clio Bernard, Andrea Arnold, Lynne Ramsay, Alan Clarke (who I think is the most direct companion to this work, from the at-time guttural sensitivity), with other works I'm reminded of including Naked, Mona Lisa, and Nil by Mouth.
This is a film that is difficult viewing for those that find themselves not necessarily refracted in the characters, but in the dynamics, tone, and mood, which can at times feel overwhelming.
The palliative care sequences were particularly gut-wrenching for me, and handled carefully.
The performances are almost feverish, as if dictated by, or caught in, circumstance,-and this does seem like a definitively unique contribution to filmmaking, that will over time, I imagine, be viewed with the same eyes as those that look back on a work like Nil by Mouth.
It seems slightly pointless to try to describe the story as a way into the film, since what this really feels like is delving headfirst into a study of complex dynamics that I don't think someone could have directed had they not gone through them.
There is a deep austerity to filmmaking rarely being done like this anymore.