The Outrun reviews

The Outrun (2024) Review - "An Ode to the Ocean" by Laura Clark

As soon as I saw the trailer for Nora Fingscheidt's new film, starring Saoirse Ronan and set in the Scottish Highlands, I knew I was in for a treat. This is an emotive, intimate film that takes us through a turbulent year in the protagonist's journey to sobriety. As Rona returns to her roots in Scotland while confronting her past, you might think you've heard this story before. But Ronan holds the screen, carrying the soul of this character. You see it in the subtle movements of her eyes, the twitching of her fingers; she has embodied this role so deeply that, when we witness her rocky ups and downs, we believe she has truly lived this life.

Fingscheidt immerses us in the complexity of Rona’s journey with a non-linear narrative, pulling us between the bright lights of London and the wildness of Orkney, Scotland. Rona's inner world of memories swirls, tangles and crashes on screen, with the roaring sounds of the rugged coastline often clashing against the heavy beats of a club. We flick between different hair colours to differentiate timelines — a somewhat contrived trope, but an effective storytelling cue: electric blue during her chaotic time in London, a weary pale pink when she is at her lowest, and platinum blonde with grown-out blue as she begins her road to recovery. As Rona faces the uphill climb of sobriety, she blocks out the beautiful sounds of the wild island, dismisses her father's illness, and resents her mother’s attempts at support.

Initially, Rona yearns to return to the life she knew in London, romanticising the past with innocent, fun nights shared with friends and lovers. In contrast to the buzzing metropolitan life, Orkney is portrayed as bleak, grey, and even somewhat dull at the start. However, as the memories of London grow fuzzy and ugly, Rona’s appreciation for Orkney sharpens. This newfound perception is showcased in one of the most captivating scenes, when Rona finally takes off her headphones — booming with industrial techno — to tune into the wild, monstrous sounds of the ocean crashing against the shore.

By this stage in the film, it feels as though Orkney becomes a secondary character, woven into Rona’s story in a symbiotic relationship, helping her heal. While Rona seeks work with the RSPB surveying the fields and develops a deep interest in seaweed farming, the land gives back to her too. The sound of the wind atop the cliffs becomes her dance floor; the seals are her best friends; the cry of the curlew is her long-lost lover, while the ocean cleanses and nurtures her, almost like a mother. In a final act of transformation, she dyes her hair a daring fiery orange, as if she’s fully stepped into her newfound freedom and reconnection with the land — and most importantly herself.

This may be a film about overcoming addiction, but it also feels like a reawakening of what was lost — a love letter to Orkney, an ode to the ocean.

The Outrun by Jasmin Kaur

Nora Fingscheidt's latest film, “The Outrun”, brings Orkney to life. As an audience member, I was newly introduced to the Scottish archipelago in Rona’s (Saoirse Ronan's) journey through alcoholism and sobriety. With the “outrun” in question likely referring to both Rona and her childhood farm, the film is just as much about Scotland as it is about Rona’s personal story. It is there in Orkney that we see Rona reluctantly return from rehab after spending ten years in London, opposite from Orkney in every sense. London has bars and clubs with loud music and crowds of people. However, rather than this being a place of warmth and comfort, London seems more like somewhere she is running away to.

With its characteristic strong winds and storms, Orkney is a source of turbulence, both literally and metaphorically. In one candid conversation between Rona and her boyfriend Daynin (played by Paapa Essiedu), she casually recalls believing that her father could control the winds. Later, in one captivating scene acted out by Stephen Dillane, we see Rona’s father smashing the windows and inviting the storm into the house. Rather than this being a magical moment, it is revealed that Rona’s father suffers from bipolar disorder and was emotionally absent from her childhood and transition into adulthood. Rona’s mother on the other hand (played by Saskia Reeves) turns to religion, propping up crosses in the house and praying for her daughter’s recovery. And so, Orkney and the Outrun become a stifling place where she is initially met with suffocating isolation. At first, she has little friends and is known only to her English parents and her mother’s well meaning but judgemental church friends.

The tone of the film shifts dramatically after Rona relapses in her father’s caravan. As she begins the tricky process of sobriety again, she chooses the unorthodox approach of moving to a remote part of the Orkney islands. Here, her love for nature is reignited as she takes up a job with the RSPB trying to track the corncrake. She is surrounded by nature and her days are dotted with encounters of seals. Here, she delves more into Orkney folklore, recalling tales of selkies and their ability to shift between human and seal forms. There, she also finds strength in a heart-warming and gracious community who help pave the way to recovery.

As someone who has seen quite a few Saoirse Ronan films, this has to be one of my favourites. At its core, this film is a story about healing from addiction and approaches the topic with humility and sincerity. It makes clear that recovering from addiction is most definitely not a linear journey. In both London and Orkney timelines, with pink and blue hair, having a drink is something she sorely misses. There is no definitive end for Rona. We cannot say with certainty that she will stay sober, or that she will forever stay happy. But she is healing. Where we leave off, her hair is red, matching the fire from the festival. She is engaged with her community and once again passionate about nature and biology, intending to return to her PhD to research the power of seaweed. She even gets to hear the corncrake at the end, a sure sign of hope.

If you've not seen The Outrun yet, it's still showing at HPPH. You can find times & tickets here.