by Heath Lynch, Contributing Writer
Here’s what we know: One, alcoholism is a serious disease. Two, it’s very hard to stand out in a crowd.
A disease that can destroy lives, and not just those suffering from the condition, but those adjacent to the one struggling with addiction, is no laughing matter. It’s important to handle such a topic with nuance and understanding, especially if it’s being portrayed in an artistic medium like film. But with that said, how do you go about doing that when it has been done before? There are already hundreds of films about alcoholism and addiction; they’ve been portrayed in so many different ways, and in so many films, many of which have become Oscar nominated and winning films. It can be quite the hurdle to be original.
This is the crux of The Outrun, the newest film from Nora Fingscheidt starring the always impressive Saoirse Ronan. Because while this picture certainly delivers a sincere look at the hardships of alcoholism and its effects, it offers virtually nothing that you haven’t already seen before in better films.
But let’s not bury the lead here, and that lead is Saoirse.
Honestly, it’s just Saoirse doin’ Saoirse things. You know, that thing where she casually elevates a standard film with a jaw-droppingly impressive, powerhouse performance. Though the structure of the narrative may often be disorienting, Ronan is here to anchor an otherwise rocky experience. At bare minimum, her hair color marks the timeline to make the plot more digestible.
What’s most impressive, though, is how sincerely Ronan comes across. The expression in her eyes tells a tale in and of itself. You can see the anger, sorrow, and remorse all rolled into her stare. The realizations she makes as a character when confronted by her poor decisions transfer themselves onto the audience, making for a relatable experience even if you’ve never suffered from this horrible disease. We all have regrets, decisions we wish we could take back, and Ronan’s expressive portrayal of these moments, the ensuing grief, and strength of character it takes to rebound and grow in the wake of moments that make you hit rock bottom, is powerful. Whether it’s in the scenes of elevated ecstasy as she’s riding the high of being drunk, crashing down from that high and being destructive to herself and anyone else in her path, self-loathing in the aftermath of her actions when she struggles through rehab, or the brief moments of serenity where she finds peace, Ronan perfectly embraces and encapsulates the moment.
Make no mistake about it, Ronan is fantastic here. I wouldn’t be shocked if we hear her name tied to a lot of awards buzz in a few months time. She’s that good.
There are other noteworthy aspects to be found beyond the tour de force that is Ronan. Specifically the cinematography, editing, and score.
Visually, there are some beautiful moments. There’s an almost psychedelic euphoria to the drunk sequences. A haziness that’s heightened by many of these scenes taking place in clubs and bars that offer unique lighting. It puts you in the zone and makes you understand why being drunk all the time could be so fun. Contrasted against this is the brutal coldness of the Scottish isles, gray and morbid. As if your soul came here in isolation to live out your final days. It‘s a creative visual way to add to the difficulty of sobriety. The film is littered with interesting choices like this.
The editing compounds the visually pleasing elements. Though sometimes the film seemingly gets a bit too self-serious and artsy for its own sake with some cuts and shots that feel really out of place, as a whole it is cut very well. It adds to the journey of our central character by fully delivering on a sense of time, and poignantly articulating specific moments in her path to sobriety. The score works in conjunction with these aspects as well. A swelling crescendo atop a beautiful sunrise over distant waters, or an arresting and anxiety-filled heartbeat over a raucous drunken escapade, really add to a scene.
However, with all of that said, the narrative choices really let this film down when seemingly everything around this script is doing so much to make it as great as possible.
The timeline here is erratic at best. I quipped earlier, but it’s worth reiterating, this movie jumps all over the place and the only way to tell me things are happening is to keep track of Ronan’s hair dye. I’m not kidding. Even then, some scenes still don’t sync up where you can tell the director wants them to take place. This would be frustrating enough on its own, but when you combine this with the fact that this is the exact same story about alcoholism that you’ve already seen before in a dozen plus other movies, well, you have a problem.
The narrative slowly rolls over itself in a malaise as the runtime drags on. You sit there waiting for something new to transpire, to break up the monotony, but it never comes. In the end, you’re left checking the boxes on a to-do list about addiction movies. Have a promising career/relationship/future ruined by addiction? Check. Flashback to bad drunken moments? Check. Show our lead being violent and aggressive in those moments, and in others where they can’t get more of their drug? Yup, those are here too. As well as going to rehab, relapsing, and finding sobriety in the end. Sorry to ruin the plot, I guess, but you already know the plot going into this… and that’s kinda the whole point.
There are several moments where it feels like this film could offer something new to chew on. A new perspective, angle, or dynamic. But at seemingly every fork in the road where it could make an interesting decision, it opts to make the generic call. This is most impactful in the film’s climax. The movie puts on quite a show with Ronan rediscovering herself and trying to turn it into a powerfully emotional moment. For me, though, it just falls flat. As the story and its lead character (the only character with an ounce of development or change throughout the entire film) are not engaging, I just couldn’t find it in me to care. After two hours of a Netflix movie-esque plot, I was numb to the experience, and certainly felt like the movie didn’t earn the catharsis it feels it does.
In many ways, The Outrun is this year’s To Leslie. I mean that with all of the good and bad that comparison could possibly entail.
Like To Leslie, there are some dazzling technical moments, and I was certainly smitten with the central performance. In fact, I would say that Ronan knocks it out of the park in comparison to Andrea Riseborough, and Riseborough is no slouch. But also like To Leslie, The Outrun is a tired narrative experience. It doesn’t offer nearly enough beyond being a film about alcoholism/addiction. It comes across like one of those scripts you’d see someone turn in at a collegiate creative writing class, and the professor would hand it back with a C grade, saying the author relied on too many crutches.
That’s To Leslie. That’s The Outrun.
Still, Ronan is so damn good that she singlehandedly makes this fairly average movie worth watching.
Rating: It Was Just Okay
The Outrun is currently playing in theaters
You can read more from Heath Lynch, and follow him on Letterboxd