Gemma Creagh takes a trip back to the stunning South-West with Emer Reynolds’ Joyride.
From the wild waves of the Atlantic to the lively festival townscapes, Joyride is a tumultuous trip across the photogenic Kingdom of Kerry, where half-orphan Mully and new mother Joy (Olivia Colman) form an unlikely friendship. Navigating the ever-changing terrain in a litany of stolen cars, taxis and ferries, the pair travel together, but are on two very different journeys.
Young Mully is running to escape the wrath of his feckless thief of a father (Lochlann O’Mearáin), when he inadvertently picks up a sleeping Joy, and her newborn child. Joy is making the difficult pilgrimage to hand over her baby to the care of her sister. Her plan is to escape to Lanzarote so she can resume her independent life unencumbered, so she enlists Mully to take her to the airport. As a new uncle and veterinarian in the making, Mully’s nurturing instinct kicks into gear. In many ways, he becomes an unintentional translator, encouraging Joy to engage with her child – albeit reluctantly.
Penned by Ailbhe Keogan, what’s unusual about this plot is the pacing. It jolts into effect so fast it’s almost jarring… we are well into the action before there’s a breath where we get to know our two leads – both of whom go refreshingly against type. Mully, played by impressive newcomer Charlie Reid, is an empathetic, warm and sensitive teenage boy, while Colman’s depiction of Joy is cold, cutting and calculating as a new mother – at least in the interim. O’Mearáin once again delivers as a dashing cad, bringing just enough charm to plaster over his character’s unlikeable qualities.
There are two very contrasting dynamics in the storyline. The structure of Joyride is hinged on a lighthearted – bordering on farcical – road movie caper, complete with physical comedy, irreverent side characters, and buddy movie dynamic. However, underpinning this is something much darker, and much meatier too. How Joy and Mully find their connection is through their deep, shared pain. Shying well away from the glowing mother clichés, Joyride isn’t afraid of wading into the messy complexities of becoming a parent. This is something made even more difficult when carrying the near-impossible weight of intergenerational trauma. Meanwhile, Mully is processing the grief of losing his mother while managing the toxicity of his father.
The aesthetics here are nothing short of exquisite. The rich, vintage production design contrasts beautifully with the violent lushness of the landscape. The heightened nature of the colour palette, teamed with Joy’s vivid tailored wardrobe is structured spectacularly on the screen by James Mather’s cinematography. The layered soundscape elevates the sense of place, and is immersive and almost playful at points. An impressive drama debut from director Emer Reynolds, this film is certainly one that needs to be experienced on the big screen. Joyride is beautiful, stylish and sneakily soulful.
Joyride is available to stream online now.
Podcast: Emer Reynolds, Director of ‘Joyride’
