Red Road (18) <!-- none onestar twostar threestar fourstar fivestar -->

Reviewed,Anthony Quinn
Friday 27 October 2006 00:00 BST
Comments

Your support helps us to tell the story

From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.

At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.

The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.

Your support makes all the difference.

Red Road is the location of a monstrous concrete high-rise in a rough part of Glasgow where writer-director Andrea Arnold's superb debut unfolds. Crime is endemic to this neighbourhood, whose streets CCTV operator Jackie (Kate Dickie) monitors on cameras for a private security firm. Nursing an unspecified grief, Jackie keeps loneliness at bay, just, with unsatisfying and irregular spurts of adultery. One night she spots the face of a man named Clyde (Tony Curran) on her screens; she knows he has just been released from prison, though not until the end do we discover his crime. Quietly, she tracks him on camera, then takes to stalking him in person. She can't understand how this jailbird seems to have moved on with his life while she's stuck in hers.

Not the least impressive aspect of this study in rage and remorse is the authority Arnold brings to the setting: late-night Glasgow, with its menace yet odd grace notes of kinship, is compellingly drawn, as are the two waifs (Martin Compston and Natalie Press) who attach themselves to Clyde. Arnold's engagement with the moral pitfalls of surveillance puts you in mind of other movies, including Rear Window, The Conversation, even Michael Haneke's recent Hidden.

Yet however various her influences Arnold has made a movie that's her own. It's also honestly sexual without being prurient or self-regarding. Dickie, with her tragic face, and Curran give outstanding performances, and deserve every award that comes their way. As does this film, the best made in Britain this year.

Join our commenting forum

Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies

Comments

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged inPlease refresh your browser to be logged in