Nora Fingscheidt is carving out a bit of a niche for stories about trouble women existing in difficult circumstances. Her widely celebrated debut, System Crasher, focused on a young child struggling in the German care system, while her flawed English language debut Unforgivable saw Sandra Bullock play a woman recently released from prison attempting to rebuild her life. Plus ça change in The Outrun, based on Amy Liptrott’s memoir of the same name, in which Saoirse Ronan gives a fine turn as a young woman in alcoholism recovery who returns to her familial home on the Orkney Isles.
Rona (Ronan) is a free-spirited 29-year-old biologist, who moved from the remote community off the coast of Scotland to London for university. Her newfound freedom ultimately proved detrimental, and she developed a penchant for partying which turned into an alcohol dependency. After her partner Daynin (Paapa Essiedu) leaves her, she attends a rehab programme with hopes of getting clean.
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Her recovery moves Rona to visit her divorced parents in the tranquil isolation of their island home, more than a decade after she left. It’s revealed they separated in part due to her father Andrew’s (Stephen Dillane) bipolar disorder and because her mother Ann (Saskia Reeves) found God. She stays with her mother while helping her father with the lambing season on his farm, trying to make sure he’s taking care of himself while deciding what she wants to do with her future.
Although the film draws a clumsy connection between her father’s mental illness and Rona’s alcoholism without actually getting into the specifics of how exactly genetics influence our predisposition to addictive behaviour, it’s a real chance for Ronan to sink her teeth into a role after a few years in quite middling fair. It’s a performance that feels raw and studied and avoids cliches – Rona is not defined by her alcoholism, and even in a state of arrested development, there’s a sense of her charisma and passions, notably regarding her PhD. It’s also a compelling advertisement for the rugged beauty of Orkney, which appears wild at first, but warm and nurturing beneath the wind and rain. It’s a place that Rona seems reluctant to return to, but seems to have a healing effect upon her as she disconnects from the stressors of the Big Smoke.
The Outrun also emphasises the impact of Rona’s addiction upon those close to her, whether it’s the gentle Daynin or her patient but concerned mother. Her loneliness is particularly stinging, and it feels as though Rona’s recovery hinges on her ability to become more present with herself, as well as the world around her.
Yet despite the strength of Ronan’s performance, The Outrun struggles to leave a lasting impression, cut from the same cloth as similar dramas. Although Fingscheidt deftly avoids falling into the trap of creating inspirational misery porn, it’s a drama that only paints in broad strokes, and as such fails to stand out in a crowded field.
