Jackie is watching.
Behind a bank of televisions, she's privy to the open secrets of Glasgow, the first line of defense against pickpockets and miscreants, controlling the closed-circuit police cameras installed for the safety of the citizenry. Jackie's sharp eyes and zooming lenses protect and serve every day. But Jackie's not objective--her eye is human, after all--and when she catches sight of a familiar face, her spying gaze turns into a destructive obsession.
Writer/director Andrea Arnold infuses Red Road with carefully measured reminders of the joys available to Jackie (played by Kate Dickie) if she can just let go of her grief--the sight of an old aunt dancing at a wedding, a group of drunken friends singing along to Oasis in one of those awful bachelor pads that are made for parties--but the sum of the parts feels derivative. This story has been done before, and not just by the far more audacious Morvern Callar, which Red Road conjures through its bleak Glaswegian streets and dour central performance from Kate Dickie. It hits all the story marks that have come to characterize screenplays that get processed through the Sundance Institute, where Red Road was developed.
Jackie's the kind of movie character who sleeps with the ashes of her husband and daughter, and who has perfunctory, alienating sex with a married man-- story choices that feel very contrived. Despite the script flaws, Dickie gives a brave, compelling performance, and she finds the truths in Arnold's story. Her choices as an actress elevate this shopworn material into a heartbreaking, moving film.
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January 8, 2008 - 4:49pm
