THE OUTRUN (no distrib): Films about alcoholics and addicts in recovery are too numerous to count, and it’s easy to understand why. The stories offer a clear narrative path, usually with an inspirational destination (occasionally with a tragic end, which can be just as cathartic), as well as a ready-made showcase for the star, who will inevitably get to portray the protagonist from the highs of dissipation through grueling withdrawal, a painful fall or two off the wagon, and eventual emotional breakthrough. The pattern is so familiar, in fact, that a new entry faces a fairly high bar to justify its existence. The Outrun, directed by Nora Fingscheidt and based by Fingscheidt and Amy Liptrot on Liptrot’s memoir, offers a tremendous performance from the ever-remarkable Saoirse Ronan, as well as an atypical setting. Ronan’s character, named Rona in the film, is a scientific researcher whose heavy partying lifestyle in London ruins her job and her relationship with Daynin (Paapa Essiedu). After a drunken bad decision that leads to violence and some time in rehab, she goes back to her home on the Scottish coast, where she joins a team searching for a bird in danger of extinction. But things are difficult for her there, too, partly due to her bumpy relationships with her bipolar father (Stephen Dillane) and pious mother (Saskia Reeves). So she retreats even farther into isolation, taking up residence on a tiny island off the coast. It’s there that she starts to put her life back together, finding in nature the kind of transcendence she’d previously gotten from drugs and alcohol. There are so many movies about recovery that even this story is not dissimilar from the Reese Witherspoon vehicle Wild, and the fragmented structure of intercut timeframes is reminiscent of that film as well. However, the locations are more raw here (the stunning settings are photographed by Yunus Roy Imer), and so is Ronan’s work, which is desperate and ultimately lyrical. The Outrun can’t avoid a certain sameness, but it’s a worthy addition to its genre.
VENI VIDI VICI (no distrib): American Psycho, but with the matter-of-fact European cruelty of a Michael Haneke film. Directors Daniel Hoesl and Julia Niemann (Hoesl is credited with the script) would like us to know that rich people are really, really bad. How bad, you ask? Well, industrialist billionaire Amon Maynard (Laurence Rupp) spends his free time casually bumping off innocent people with a sniper rifle–and such is his economic power over the community that even when he practically begs to be arrested for his crimes, none of the authorities will touch him. Nor is there any hope for the next generation, as Amon’s young daughter Paula (Olivia Goschler) is itchily waiting for Papa to let her start using the family guns that she can already expertly load. In case the ironies of barbarity in the midst of cultured wealth aren’t sufficiently plain, Hoesl and Niemann load the score with elegant classical music. Veni Vidi Vici makes its points clear by the half-hour mark, and since it has no interest in anyone’s psychology or in emotional engagement, it doesn’t have anywhere to go other than telling us the same cynical message over and over. In an era where Succession compelled us to recognize the complexities behind the awful rich, Veni Vidi Vici feels like an entry-level course in political disgust. Watching it, you feel like the filmmakers are so sick of humanity that they probably aren’t even registered to vote.
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