Stewart
Active Member
That Lars von Trier is the mastermind behind the genesis of Red Road should come as no surprise, given the style in which it is shot and presented, and in the way it came to be. You see, it's the first film in the Advance Party trilogy, a series of films set in Scotland and directed by first timers each of whom have to use the same characters (as set out by Danish director, Lone Scherfig) as played by the same actors. The only difference is in which way the use of the characters is weighted to the individual film's storyline.
Thus we have Jackie, a CCTV operator who spends her working day spying on the people of Glasgow's run down Barmulloch area in which there is a bona fide Red Road. She's having a fling with one of her married colleagues and has little else in her life; the majority of people she knows is only via their daily routines as captured by the many cameras. One day, however, she spies a man she knows as Clyde who has recently been released from prison and becomes obsessed with him to the point that she isn't doing her job properly. For what purposes, her fascination with him, we are not told.
Jackie's interest in Clyde leads her to get involved in his life, her ever daring attempts to be in his company and learn about him forcing us, the audience, to ask questions of what her motivations are. And, when the film reaches a rather explicit sex scene acting as the fulcrum between mystery and revelation we find out just what it is that drives Jackie. And the depths to which she'll stoop in order to achieve her goals.
At it's heart, Red Road is a revenge movie with this path of anger being the figurative take on its title. There is an underlying theme of voyeurism which is not really developed but, as we join Jackie in her study of others via her cameras she does not make explicit conclusions about what she sees. Instead, the audience becomes a voyeur like Jackie and draw our own understandings from what silent footage we see. The paths our mind takes as we form opinions on Clyde are red too, if only due to the volume of red herrings afforded us.
Red Road, as you would expect, is not heavy on action. Or dialogue, for that matter. It's brooding, it's bleak, it's gritty, and none of the characters are wholly likeable, although they do have a few redeeming features. Clyde's genuine interest in Jackie, for example, is a far cry from the clinical sex only liaison with her colleague. The supporting cast do well to add to the atmosphere, whether they be ex-cons, runaways, or begrudged family. Everyone has their secrets, yet not one seems willing to confront themselves on it.
Andrea Arnold, who used to present Number 73 back in the eighties, is the first director in the trilogy. And she does a fine job: cameras go in close on the actors' faces, drag long and slow across panoramas of dirty Glasgow. The actors seem to know what they are doing. It will certainly be interesting to see how these people feature in the next movies and how our previous awareness of them affects our understanding o them. But for now, as a standalone, Red Road doesn't make promises of Happy Families and in this it delivers. It's a path work walking.
Thus we have Jackie, a CCTV operator who spends her working day spying on the people of Glasgow's run down Barmulloch area in which there is a bona fide Red Road. She's having a fling with one of her married colleagues and has little else in her life; the majority of people she knows is only via their daily routines as captured by the many cameras. One day, however, she spies a man she knows as Clyde who has recently been released from prison and becomes obsessed with him to the point that she isn't doing her job properly. For what purposes, her fascination with him, we are not told.
Jackie's interest in Clyde leads her to get involved in his life, her ever daring attempts to be in his company and learn about him forcing us, the audience, to ask questions of what her motivations are. And, when the film reaches a rather explicit sex scene acting as the fulcrum between mystery and revelation we find out just what it is that drives Jackie. And the depths to which she'll stoop in order to achieve her goals.
At it's heart, Red Road is a revenge movie with this path of anger being the figurative take on its title. There is an underlying theme of voyeurism which is not really developed but, as we join Jackie in her study of others via her cameras she does not make explicit conclusions about what she sees. Instead, the audience becomes a voyeur like Jackie and draw our own understandings from what silent footage we see. The paths our mind takes as we form opinions on Clyde are red too, if only due to the volume of red herrings afforded us.
Red Road, as you would expect, is not heavy on action. Or dialogue, for that matter. It's brooding, it's bleak, it's gritty, and none of the characters are wholly likeable, although they do have a few redeeming features. Clyde's genuine interest in Jackie, for example, is a far cry from the clinical sex only liaison with her colleague. The supporting cast do well to add to the atmosphere, whether they be ex-cons, runaways, or begrudged family. Everyone has their secrets, yet not one seems willing to confront themselves on it.
Andrea Arnold, who used to present Number 73 back in the eighties, is the first director in the trilogy. And she does a fine job: cameras go in close on the actors' faces, drag long and slow across panoramas of dirty Glasgow. The actors seem to know what they are doing. It will certainly be interesting to see how these people feature in the next movies and how our previous awareness of them affects our understanding o them. But for now, as a standalone, Red Road doesn't make promises of Happy Families and in this it delivers. It's a path work walking.