'The Outrun' Runs from any Original Take on Substance Abuse
Addiction is a topic often tackled in cinema. Sometimes, it's done well; other times, it's the same old story. The Outrun is the same old thing. It's a story about substance abuse that isn't particularly bad, just bland and forgettable. It doesn't reach any revelations that will reveal anything new about addiction that we don't already know about. Certain scenes are powerful—except there are not many of them. A big portion of the film is placed in unnecessary narration compiled with cheesy metaphors. The base story, aside from the narration, is serviceable, with nothing really to hold your attention other than our protagonist's meltdowns.
The film opens with a voice-over about the Selkie, a mythological creature in which a human can turn into a seal. The Selkies didn't adjust well to being on the surface as humans, as they preferred being fish. This Scottish take on the myth is symbolic of Rona's (Saoirse Ronan) home. The narration is placed over shots of the Orkney Islands, although in Scotland, the imagery is reminiscent of The Banshees of Inisherin. In Banshees, the film takes place on a beautiful, quiet island that's cut off from society. In The Outrun, the movie also takes place on a quiet island. The difference is in this film the entire narrative doesn't take place on said island. It's broken up into multiple locations where our protagonist, like Dorthy from The Wizard of Oz, will learn that there's no place like home. Rona narrates about the Selkies because they couldn't adjust to a world outside of their home. As an adult, Rona must learn how to be independent, yet at the same time, she must break free from her reliance on booze.
The narration is fine for an opening, but hearing it throughout the movie is exhausting. I'm trying to connect the dots to symbolic images of water, rocks, and nature that relate to Rona's addiction. Yet the narration sequences feel like a National Geographic film, so I don't really care what she's saying. It's narrativly corny. I think Director Nora Fingscheidt was trying to bring the words from Amy Liptrot's memoir to life. I respect that. It's hard to take a book's voice and give it something cinematic. It's just that those little details, like the protagonist's first-person perspective through Rona's voice, don't work the same on screen as it does on the page.
When we first meet Rona, she's in a bar. At first, she's a fun drunk. Although Rona's falling over furniture and staying too long at the bar, she's not aggressive. Like a light flipping a switch, Rona goes from nice to mean in an instant. As she's being politely dragged out of the bar, Rona goes from giggling to shouting obscenities. Then she falls on her face straight into the concrete curb, leaving a nasty bruise around her eye in the next scene. Now, we see Rona at the reception desk of what appears to be a hospital. Rona says she needs a place to stay because she's not well. Yet more of where she's going is revealed later. SPOILER/NOT SPOILER WARNING: it's rehab. Why does the film not just reveal it's rehab from the moment we see Rona placed under those unforgiving, fluorescent lights?
The story is told slightly out of order making us understand how Rona got to where she is. It's effective. We don't meet Rona's boyfriend, Daynin (Paapa Essiedu) when we first see her in the movie. We see him during a flashback. The two met in a club where drinking scored Rona, her man. At one point in the film, Rona says she can't be happy sober. As a former alcoholic, I know the feeling well. You try to be happy, but it's the substance that sets your mind free. It stops the constant intrusive thoughts that bother your head. The drink is an escape from reality that feels so good at the moment it almost doesn't matter if you lose your job, your partner, or your home, which is what happens to Rona.
Rona's life is in the dumps. She's unemployed and living with her parents. Her family supports her as much as they can, but there's not much life to be had in Orkney. When we cut to Rona in her parent's place, it's revealed that several months have passed since she's been sober. Even with sobriety, her life is empty. Rona has a master's in biology yet can't maintain her job at the lab. We all know how the typical story of the addict goes. Our protagonist gets too drunk, makes a mess of their life, gets sober, and then relapses.
There's a reason these stories are overtold. It's because they're accurate. Everyone relapses. The only difference is if you can recover from the relapse. The entire take sobriety "one day at a time" analogy may sound obvious, but it really is a struggle. Whenever you face potential bad news, you want a drink to get through it. When you want to be entertained, you drink to make it even more enjoyable. It doesn't matter the occasion; you need something to get you through the day because life is boredom mixed with pain. As a narrative depicting the accuracy of addiction, I'd say Nora Fingscheidt got the material on the nose. But as a dramatic film, the movie is a mediocre arthouse film.
A strong performance from Saoirse Ronan helms the film. She hits the big emotions where she needs to and makes a convincing drunk. It's also kind of an Oscar-bate role. This film comes out in October, the first of the big awards consideration month. Ms. Ronan plays an addict who screams and cries her way to the gold. I'm not saying this movie was made for Oscar Bate, but its distribution is certainly being handled that way. Maybe it will earn Ronan a nod. It likely won't, as this movie is far from special. It's just okay. There was enough in the story to hold my interest. But not for long. By the third or fourth time you see Saoirse Ronan having a belligerent episode, the film bashes itself over the head with its message.
One thing I don't get about addiction movies is why the protagonists are played by pretty actors all the time. Alcohol adds weight. A lot of it. Yet every booze addict is as thin as a rail in American cinema. I know alcoholics who barely ate and only drank who indeed were thin, but most of them look like me. The Outrun may be based on a true story. It may have heart and nuance put into it. But it's not necessarily a great movie because of it. Just another indie film with a limited score and handheld shots that make it indiscernible from any random movie you'd see at a film festival. There's some good stuff in this movie that's been used in so many addiction-based movies before that The Outrun comes across as a run-of-the-mill tale of addiction with a rushed, abrupt ending on recovery.
