Directed By Nora Fingscheidt

Starring – Saorise Ronan, Saskia Reeves, Stephen Dillane

The Plot – After living life on the edge in London, Rona (Ronan) attempts to come to terms with her troubled past. She returns to the wild beauty of Scotland’s Orkney Islands, where she grew up, hoping to heal. Adapted from the bestselling memoir of the same name by Amy Liptrot.

Rated R for adult language and brief sexuality

THE OUTRUN | Official Trailer (2024) (youtube.com)

POSITIVES

Conveying the everyday realities of people plagued by the mental disease of alcoholism isn’t always easy to effectively articulate, especially without the dependency on the melodramatics, but Fingscheidt spiritually takes value in the subdued moments of human resiliency that are so vital to clean and sober lifestyles, reserving those moments of dark and terrifying circumstances while under the influence to hold in parallel to the woman Rona was versus who she grows to be. As expected, Nora fleshes out the difficulties with maintaining such a lifestyle, where loneliness affords voices of intuition to speak the loudest during Rona’s time in isolation, or dealing with a bipolar father, but the journey is one not only of self-discovery, hinting forcefully towards the aspects of dissatisfaction within Rona’s life that may or may not have contributed to such a crippling condition, but also one of insightful responsibility, as the script takes ample time inside of Rona’s narrative to illustrate the alarming red flags to alcoholism that makes it the most accessible among psychological diseases, based on friends and family who cater to such rambunctious displays of celebration, crafting an exploration that is every bit tastefully explored as it is earnestly approached in Rona’s growing optimism towards the right path. Beyond the storytelling, the spellbinding visual techniques grant audiences an unsettling truth in the depiction of substance influence that plays especially captivating towards the dual timelines that the film often unceremoniously shifts from, particularly in the varying degrees of difference between them visually that each captures something integral to the arc of Rona’s characterization. When pertaining to the past, with Rona rabidly living a care-free lifestyle, the camera work is intentionally handheld, claustrophobic, and very erratic, making it difficult to focus on any one thing, let alone feel comfortable in such an unpredictable atmosphere with Rona acting irrationally and irresponsibly, and when the story frequently flashes ahead to her time in recovery, the motions are subdued for wide angled tranquility in capture, meant to not only convey her concerning isolation, but also the purity of life with all of its stripped down new beginnings. With the latter being my obvious preference, and thankfully the one we experience a majority of this narrative, we’re treated to breathtaking captures that completely take advantage of the on-site photography of many beautifully scenic European landscapes, inscribing a therapeutic value to the cinematography that Yunus Roy Imer inspires so nourishingly. Then there’s Saorise Ronan’s work as Rona, which is easily the film’s most admirable quality, especially considering she’s essentially playing two sides to the same character. Ronan devastates initially with an erratic naivety that makes Rona feel practically possessed while under the influence of alcohol’s shape-shifting grip, before evolving to stern stoicism during the later years of the exploration. While the former certainly challenges her emotionally in ways that are continuously wrenching and challenging for Ronan’s physicality and flaring dramatic intensity, I think she shows her best work during those subdued moments of intimate reflection, where as a woman with very little help or hope, bestows an unflinching authenticity and resiliency that inspires many painfully resonant realizations about herself, all without ever sacrificing the empathetic quality to her portrayals that Soarise commits to so naturally. Lastly, while persevering through problems that I had with both the script and especially the movie’s editing, the climax did materialize a masterfully enlightening triumph that I wish resonated within the confines of the entire nearly two hour run time, particularly in how the lightning of the visuals of Rona’s life experiences clashed with John Gurtler’s thunderously rampant compositions, crafting an awe-inspiring moment of clarity that feels like the psychological manifestation of a transformation in its deepest form. Regardless of where Rona ends up by film’s end, the knowledge attained in this immersive recollection feels vital to the character persisting long after the credits roll, and though ambiguity finds itself to any conflict without complete resolution, this artistically flashy sequence in a film of reserved expressionism feels like the necessary epiphany to brandish her unwavering will, where she feels strongest in a day to day outlook, instead of the bigger picture leaving her overwhelmed.

NEGATIVES

Honestly and surprisingly, there were a few things that took away investment to the depth of the exploration, but none as compromising as the spontaneity of the editing, which made it difficult to remain focused in distinguishing multiple timelines that the film continuously shifts through. As to where most films with a shifting setting will conjure some form of color variation or character appearance to articulate where we are at any given moment, the shifts here happen often without indication, with only the occasional on-screen text of days sober to illustrate where we’re at. It’s bad enough that these happen so forcefully from scene to scene, feeling like a constant intrusion to our interpretation, but it’s even worse that there’s no kind of consequential order to those past days transitioned to, so the audience has to continuously remind themselves where exactly this scene and noteworthy event takes shape in a bigger and convoluted character outline, which would’ve been better suited with less transitions or even a linear structure to navigate the distance of its exploration. In addition to the tumbles with the editing, I found the overhead narration of Ronan’s to elicit annoyance to information she’s spoon-feeding to the audience, paralleling an specie tradition with Rona’s own transformation, to give it that spiritual sense of rehabilitation. While I wholeheartedly understand the intention that the script is going for with this enlightening education towards showing how humans are similar to fish and birds in a lot of ways, it felt a bit too pretentious for this particular story, resulting in me continuously rolling my eyes each time it took away focus and minutes from the narrative, all to simply just make a psychological observation that could’ve been deduced to a couple of instances, instead of an intrusion every fifteen minutes to the air and respect of our engagement. This could definitely be a major contributor to the lack of consistent drama to the script, but for my money Nora’s decision to ground a majority of the experiences in the subdued moments is equally responsible, giving us a film about alcoholism that didn’t quite touch me as inspirationally as some of the more dramatically flaring of its predecessors. While I certainly can appreciate her need as a director to refuse exploiting the weak and vulnerable for entertainment value, there were pockets within ‘The Outrun’ that waned on my already frail interest towards a choppy and disorganized structure to its storytelling, testing my patience in more ways than I truly could’ve expected or appreciated.

OVERALL
‘The Outrun’ is a candidly honest and human approach to depicting the trials and tribulations of alcoholism, that sometimes comes at the cost of alienating audience patience within one or more sacrificial aspects to its integrity. Despite a non-linear structure that creates chaos with focus and interpretation, Ronan’s radiance eliciting the highs and lows of humanity is one that ultimately keeps it above water, earning the film a rare authenticity towards overcoming demons that quite literally takes it one day at a time.

My Grade: 7/10 or B-