Film Review: A toast to Oscar hopeful Saoirse

Saoirse Ronan has just turned 30 and married her long-term partner, the actor Jack Lowden. She is almost like any other 30-year-old, except for the four Oscar nominations she has under her belt.

It is an extraordinary record for one so young, even more remarkable considering her first nomination came when she was just 13 years old for her role in the 2007 film Atonement.

Ronan’s latest movie, The Outrun, is based on the best-selling memoir by the Scottish journalist Amy Liptrot. Ronan’s performance will surely net her another Oscar nomination, but will she finally bring the award home?

She plays 29-year-old Rona, born and raised on the remote Scottish Orkney Islands, but living in London.

Rona, her boyfriend (Paapa Essiedu), and their friends like to socialise and are still young enough to believe that spending several nights in the pub doesn’t do too much damage. While the others slowly let go of their partying ways, Rona is just getting fired up.

She is the messy one, the one whose drinking goes beyond just a bit of fun, the one likely to fall over on a night out and not remember much the next day.

She gets ‘the fear’, something many Irish people will be familiar with - it is pretty much in our DNA - but unlike other people, ‘the fear’ isn’t enough to slow Rona down. She is back up, knocking back drinks, having a laugh, and letting off steam. It is a bit of fun, until it isn’t.

She falls behind in her PHD studies, has bruises she doesn’t remember getting, and increasingly often, she gets thrown out of pubs well after last orders.

Rona’s problem with alcohol gets bigger and bigger, and even when it threatens her relationship with her boyfriend, it still isn’t enough to get her to stop.

Rona rails against the idea that something is wrong. She screams, shouts and fights, and it is ugly. Even at her ugliest, Rona still can’t accept that she has a problem.

She finally hits rock bottom. She hits hard.

When that terrible realisation that there is something wrong hits her, she begs to be locked up. Every fibre of her needs help, but every fibre also fights that need.

She goes to rehab and meets people from every walk of life, each trapped in the cycle of addiction, just like she is.

The film, which is told out of sequence and features flashbacks, brings Rona back to Orkney, where she helps out on her family farm to avoid temptation. The quiet islands might be remote, but there are shops and pubs. Temptation is everywhere.

There is no safe escape for an alcoholic. The only way to be safe is to make peace and rewire your thinking, but Rona isn’t ready to do that.

Even if she was, alcoholism never really goes away. It is something she will have to learn to live with, to understand the triggers, and if she is lucky enough, learn how to navigate them and stay afloat.

Rona’s father, Andrew (Stephen Dillane), has his own demons. He has bipolar disorder, and we see glimpses of Rona’s childhood and how it may have contributed to her addiction.

Rona’s mother, Annie (Saskia Reeves), has turned to God to deal with her husband and daughter’s addiction; perhaps, in some ways, her prayers are a form of addiction.

The islands are beautiful, wild, and free, but Rona can’t see the beauty; she sees the grey boredom of a place that isn’t London until, finally, something clicks.

When it clicks, when she physically feels a change, the sea becomes her solace. It calls to her and breathes new life and peace into her, but is it enough to quieten the magnetic lure of alcohol?

The director, Nora Fingscheidt, does an excellent job of avoiding cliches and doesn’t make things easy for Rona. In deference to the source material and Liptrot’s real experience, Rona’s journey is harsh, ugly, and frightening, but it is not without hope.

It is a little long in its telling, stopping me from giving it five stars, but Ronan gives a five-star performance.

The non-linear storytelling is easy to follow thanks to Rona’s hair which changes - bright blue for when things are rock bottom, hints of blond as things gradually look up.

In this compelling portrayal of addiction, Ronan delivers an incredibly visceral and raw turn that will see her tread many red carpets come awards seasons. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that she brings that Oscar home at last.

The Outrun, in cinemas, Sept 27, cert 15a, ****