Exclusive Clip From The Red Riding Trilogy, Britain’s Ambitious Serial Killer Epic
Our stateside readers who dig serial killer procedural-thrillers in the vein ofZodiacandSilence of the Lambsshould make a blood-scrawled note of Britain’sRed Riding Trilogy. This Friday, the epic triptych begins aone week runatIFC Centerin New York City, complete with two intermissions and a free popcorn (caution to the hemoglobin phobes, the elderly, and flatulent ). I recently attended all three entries, titled1974,1980, and1983, and definitely recommend the five-hour experience, both for the project’s interconnected, serpentine plotting and to contrast the clear stylistic and tonal differences between the three directors.
Below is anexclusive Slashfilm clipfrom1974, which I felt in myreviewis the superior entry thanks to the charged noir vision of directorJulian Jarrold(Brideshead Revisited) and a star-making performance byAndrew Garfield,as a young journo submerged in idealism, booze, and mutton-chopped pheromones. Garfield’s conveyed arrogant dissonance seethes through in this excerpted scene, and the actor is set for a high profile 2010 with upcoming roles inDavid Fincher’s Facebook dramaThe Social NetworkandMark Romanek’s mysteriousNever Let Me Go. He also participated in Spike Jonze’s short film and /fave,I’m Here…
[flv:http://media2.slashfilm.com/slashfilm/trailers/redriding1974.flv 550 366]
Without spoiling the film, here’s context for the above scene: Garfield’s character,Eddie Dunford, hungry for his big break and his mum’s approval, is researching and investigating the fresh case of a missing girl in Northern England. In the cig-smoke clouded office of his newspaper, Dunford’s equally clouded by older, world-weary cynics. In this particular scene, Dunford is adamant that the recent arrest of an alleged abductor is bullocks. At clip’s conclusion, he finds a suspicious card on his boss’s desk, evidently filled with warm-sentiments from a shady developer namedJohn Dawson(the unseenSean Beanin a sleazy role that rivals Garfield’s in arrogant machismo).
Dawson’s card is just further proof that the media is in bed with shady elites who are in bed with the cops—all the while nobody seems to give a shit that young girls—those eluded to in the trilogy’s title—are being picked off the street by a madman (men?). Yorkshire in the ’70s, evil was a fan. Also, note the presence in the scene of the always-goodEddie Marsan, who adds a wild-and-defeated-eyed unpredictability to the film(s)—a familiar gift to anyone who saw him in last year’sHappy-Go-Lucky.
