Expect one thing from the film that opens with a quotation from Borjan's 1975 running to Bruce Springsteen: a movie about the road, one with an escape and exploring his mind, eventually approached from the glamourous, gray city of the establishment pictures. "Run," a third characteristic of Scott Graham, Scottish director, who is amazed by the mood, gives her that promise and deliberately undermines her: Sending 24 hours in the life of an angry, factory worker and a former boy racer is an open-air celebration , which however hits the brakes at the borders of the city, the engine resting with need-I-stay-or-need-no-uncertainty. It's a tension that the Power "Run" bare bones for 76 minutes, as well as fine, firmly bent performance from former "Game of Thrones" Alium Mark Stanley – although the movie, effective in its own modest terms, seems to be cut off with a certain distance left to run.
After landing the BAFTA nomination in 2013 for his first feature of Shell, an impressively set miniature study in the Highlands melancholy, Graham experienced a noticeable decline in the finals with his tied, unrelated next "Iona", which received a minimal distribution despite the star being lifted up to the leading lady Ruth Nega. Like Shell, Run is adapted and extended from one of Graham's previous shorts and finds it closer to the tightened, textured form of his debut, regardless of the unnecessary disappearance of the hidden scenario in a cliché.
Some degree of familiarity, at least, is intended. As in the recent "Wild Rose", the lower specificity of the working class of the Scots is used to refresh a story that is otherwise pure American, recorded with broken visions of an elusive wide open. Springsteen, present everywhere from the soundtrack to the tattoos of the characters, is an "American totem" on "Run."
The lonely despair of Graham's poem comes from a personal place: the ambience, the non-existent port city of Freiburg, is where the director himself grew up, although if there is any inclination in his presentation of his squats for fish and recreation centers, it is of particular stoic different. Graham came out; The 36-year-old Fini (Stanley) thought he was going to be, and his younger years on the streets on the docks were intended as clean dry roads for a possible quick release from the faded border of Freiburg. However, he is still there, along with his wife-mistress-turned-wife, Kathy (Amy Manson), and their two restless, bitter sons who live in modest living in the sleeping pill. When Kathy buys a fresh shirt as a "gift," Fini is grossly embarrassed: Where will they go out?
Meanwhile, their terribly eldest, Kid (Anders Hayward) now survives his father's youth, he gathers with friends at night to ignite the rubbing of the same limited part of the asphalt and treats his pregnant girl Kelly (the great Marley Siu) with Gaugh indifferent. Fini can see where all this is leading, which is what triggers her own urge to withdraw from avoidance; one evening, after a fracking family dinner, impulsively grabs the keys to the Kid car and starts to turn, raising the furious Kelly on the road.
The film's flesh is in this amazing pairing of the surpassed boy and the girl soon to carry their grandson, who unexpectedly recognize their stunning hopes in one another. The sound of understanding between them is not completely romantic, although it teaches what they both do not have in their other, frail relations. Stanley, who has a scar, a powerful behavior of a fasbender built in rugby, and Siu – a talent that grew with every scene in last year's strange strange Zombie musical "Anne and the Apocalypse" – play a mutual hunger for their characters with firm tenderness, as cinematographer Simon Tyndall electrifies dark interior car with reflected, greasy neon. For a brief magic, which is supplied with gas, they feel like the only people in the world.
That they do not know what to do with this passing relationship is potent, although at the end of the "Run" it seems also uncertain about its direction. Something hastened the final brings a new perspective and opportunities in the bright light of the day, although the short period of the film leads us to wonder if Fini's nightmare is upset simply cyclical – calling the way to more interior – and doomed to repetition. There's a reason why British cinema does not share the rich tradition of Hollywood's road: driving just hours before reaching the other end of the island. If Run, with its great American dreams and a small Scottish space, is finally frustrated by those restrictions, it is at least partially the point.