Gemma Creagh returns to the wild with Saoirse Ronan.
In embodying Rona, Saoirse Ronan is a shapeshifter. In one beat, she’s a vulnerable young woman awkwardly trying to make friends with a stranger over a cigarette. In another she’s unflinchingly stoic as she pulls blood-covered lambs from screaming ewes.
Adapted from an autobiography by Amy Liptrot, The Outrun sees Saoirse take on the role of both performer and producer. There’s nothing traditional about the form of this film. Instead of a three-act structure, the narrative gradually unfurls, then spirals down into the depths of Rona’s psyche, before finally crescendoing into something very powerful. Rona is an internalised character, both antagonist and protagonist in one. The film whips back and forth between her recovery in Scotland and her dark descent in London. In this bustling metropolis, she fails her Masters, ruins the relationship with the man she loves, Daynin (Paapa Essiedu), and is drowning in the self destruction of her addiction.
We are introduced to Rona as she walks into a London bar just after closing time. She attempts to order a drink, but after she’s refused, she becomes unruly. When she’s kicked out into the street, barely able to stand, a violent incident occurs, which sets her on the path to rehabilitation. After a stint in a recovery programme, she returns home to an island off the very northern tip of Scotland. In this tiny town on the Orkney islands, Rona struggles with the isolation. After a lifetime of hardship, her mother (Saskia Reeves) has turned to religion, which irks Rona. Navigating the cavern of her parents separation, Rona helps her father (Stephen Dillane) on their farm. He sleeps in a caravan parked in a barn, his tiny space chaotic.
Not drinking proves difficult for Rona. Now that she’s sober her thoughts overwhelm her in every quiet moment; she’s mourning the loss of her relationship with Daynin and the isolation is almost deafening. Through flashbacks, she remembers her traumatic childhood, including her father’s episodes and hospitalisations. On the wilds of the Scottish coast, Rona attempts to rebuild her life, process her past, and relearn a lifetime of behaviours.
The cinematic nature of the landscape is breathtakingly caught on camera by cinematographer Yunus Roy Ime. There’s an intensity, beauty and violence to how the Islands are presented on screen. The sound design, the constant presence of the wind and waves teamed with a dynamic musical composition, play such a crucial role in underpinning this story. Rona herself is a hub of contradictions wonderfully intertwined. The rawness of Rona’s pain, the manifestation of addiction, the intergenerational nature of mental illness and the trauma that goes hand in hand with the fallout, is brilliantly investigated by director and co-writer Nora Fingscheidt.
The Outrun is a haunting and beautiful piece of cinema worth catching on the big screen.
In cinemas from 28th September 2024.
