User Reviews

The Red Riding films have been sitting recorded waiting for me to watch them for quite some time. I set the recorder at the time for them because of the praise they received and the number of well-known names in there, other than this I didn't know too much and didn't know the books they are based off. The plot sees a young journalist returning to northern England and picking up a story about a murdered girl who was found with swan wings sewn onto her back. The police seem to be content with the usual suspects but when he starts digging deeper he finds a world of police corruption and cronyisms, putting him in danger.

When I watched this film I tried to put the hype and critical acclaim out of my mind and just come to it as I found it. As such I was not overly impressed by it but did enjoy it for the grimness that it does well. The film does have an engaging sense of foreboding and toughness that suits the material and it delivers this aspect of it very well in terms of tone, locations, costumes and general feel. However, this is ultimately a story, not just atmosphere, and I was surprised that the film didn't deliver on this particularly well. I've never read the books but I do presume they are longer than this 90 minute film represents and I presume this because it seems like a lot is rammed in here and nothing really has much time to develop or grow before we're onto the next thing. This reduced the impact of the story for me because it did feel like I was being rushed through it rather than being allowed to move around within it. It isn't helped by it more or less going where you think it will go almost by virtue of how quickly it hands you everything, thus focusing on mind on certain characters and scenarios rather than allowing the bigger world to be a thing.

The cast do well even though so many of them seem to have a few minutes each. Garfield is solid in the lead even if he seems to spent a lot of the time just being beaten. Hall works well next to him but outside of these two the cast seem too deep in faces and not deep enough in screen time for them. So people like Marsan, Mercer, Bean, Mullan etc really don't feel like they are well used even if they are good in their moments. Everyone has a good accent but it is worth saying that to those not familiar with it, it may be difficult to always pick up what is being said – this is not just down to the thickness of the accents but the sound engineering here has lots of background noise and, for the sake of atmosphere I guess, seems to have lots of mumbling.

This first film has enough good about it for me to check out the second in the trilogy, but I hope it does better with the actual story telling part. In this case atmosphere and time/place was very well done but the story and characters felt rushed and the impact of the tale was lessened due to this, which is a shame.

It is 1974. Our protagonist, young and hip, has shaggy hair, sideburns, and a slick leather jacket. Asked about his suit at his father's funeral: "Carnaby's," he admits. "Oh, ay," says one mourner, with a hint of added dismay.

He's been in the South, you see. American viewers with a limited perception of the UK may, at the beginning of Channel Four's remarkable Red Riding trilogy, have little understanding of what difference that makes. They will soon learn. "This is the North," says one of the terrifying policemen who populate this film's haunted Yorkshire. "Where we do what we want."

Red Riding: In the Year of Our Lord 1974 begins under lowering skies. A girl of ten has vanished. A young and callow crime reporter Eddie Dunford (Andrew Garfield) gets clued in by a conspiracy-minded colleague that the vanishing resembles two previous cases within a close range. Eager to make his mark, he senses opportunity, and in excitement at the idea that a serial murderer might be at work he blurts, "Let's keep our fingers crossed."

As the story deepens, however, so does the character. The grief of the victims' families needles him; he begins a relationship with one girl's heartsick mother (Rebecca Hall). Picking apart the story that emerges, he is drawn into the orbit of a wealthy developer (Sean Bean) with an unwholesome degree of influence in Yorkshire and its power structure. The perpetrator of the crimes is unquestionably psychopathic -- he stitches "angels' wings" into his victims' backs. Yet, in the film's most disturbing element, the police department itself functions as a psychopath, achieving its desires through brutalization, torture, and even possibly murder.

Caught in a conscienceless land, Dunford's own conscience, in reaction, grows, and what began as mere ambition transforms into a perhaps doomed lust for the truth. If this sounds like a conventional trope of the genre, it is -- plotwise much of what happens here is conventional. But Red Riding makes the narrative fresh by treating it not just as a story of crime and justice but as one of the soul, and its environs. When Dunford begs the mother to escape with him from the prevailing madness, he tells her, "In the South the sun shines." What he's telling her is that the sickness is inseparable from the place. Yorkshire is filmed (with gorgeous gloom) as a cloud-shrouded ruin, an economic disaster site in which financial power trumps morality. Starting out fresh-faced, vain, and cocky, Dunford will, by the end of his journey, be considerably the worse for wear. Looking at the landscape around him, we think, how could he not be?

Red Riding 1974 is not flawless -- some scenes feel repetitive and the bleakness can be overwhelming. But it compels you forward, it stays with you, and it genuinely rattles the spirit. This is not easy viewing, but in approaching the continuing saga, it promises hard- earned reward.

The year is 1974. Great Britain has pretty much (all but) cast off the whole mellow,groovy hippie glow of the late 1960's (and is pretty much unaware of the punk movement that is to envelope "merrie old England" within the next couple of years),unemployment is rampant & most folk are listening to the likes of Mott The Hoople,T-Rex,David Bowie,etc. A pedophile murderer,that is being called the Yorkshire Slasher has been terrorizing the citizens of Yorkshire for the past five years,and it's up to newby journalist,Eddie Dunford to get the facts on the who,what,when,where & especially the why on why young schoolgirls are being murdered. What he gets in the interim of uncovering information is far more than what he expected:police corruption,political graft (with deep ties to organized crime),and other nastiness. 'Red Riding 1974' (or as it is better known in the United Kingdom as 'Red Riding:In The Year Of Our Lord 1974')is the first part of a three part series,which itself is a powder keg of a "who dunnit" that will keep you on the edge of your seat guessing what happens next (suggestion:hit the mens or ladies room before the film starts & avoid that jumbo soft drink,so that you won't have to miss out on anything,because you had to make a dash for the 'loo'). Julian Jarrold,who directed the superb 'Brideshead Revisited' & 'Becomming Jane',directs a very well paced thriller from a screenplay by Tony Grisoni,adapted from the celebrated novel by David Peace. Rob Hardy's,oh so fine cinematography goes for both gloss & grit, while Andrew Hulme's razor tight editing keeps the pace (and pulse)going. Andrew Gardfield plays journalist Eddie Dunford (who looks like he just stepped down from his other gig singing for Roxy Music),a young man who descends down a dark labyrinth where there is no escape. The rest of the cast is rounded out by the likes of David Morrissey, Warren Clarke,Jennifer Hennessy,Rachael Jane Allen,and others. I await the other two chapters with anticipation. Not rated by the MPAA,this film contains pervasive strong language,strong sexual content,nudity,violence,some of which is quite brutal & bloody,some rather lurid photographs that depict the Yorkshire ripper's dirty work on display,and much smoking & drinking of alcohol. Leave the little ones home for this one.

Don't let the 1974 fool you, this year merely indicates the time period in which this British crime drama is set. The first film of a trilogy, 1974 sets up the desolate Yorkshire town which has again been struck with the grizzly and brutal murder of a young girl. This makes her merely an entry in string of disappearances over the previous decade. Despite atmosphere thick enough to ski upon, this movie fails to offer much compelling and is a tough slog not only due to its grimy nature but also its convoluted narrative.

What begin with an investigation into a young girls disappearance, gives way to a murder, then to police corruption and bureaucratic cover-ups. Dropped squarely in the center is amateur journalist Eddie Dunford (Andre Garfield) whose combination of determination and coyness take him down a dark road. I will not even delve into the plot more than I have, as not only is it too complex to adequately lay out, but I am still trying to sort it all out myself.

While the performances are uniformly good, the characters are thoroughly unlikeable. Even our protagonist Eddie has a smarmy quality to him that makes it difficult for a real connection to be achieved. This is so with much of Red Riding: 1974, we are kept at arms length; never able to engage with any of the players nor the grief and depression the town is experiencing. Such is amplified further by the engrained ugliness at every corner which inhibits any discernible depth; everyone has demons, everything is wrong and nobody is happy. Thus, the instances of violence are muted by the grimness by which it is surrounded.

If you are really hankering for a dark tragic crime film starring Andrew Garfield, check out Boy-A; a supremely better and more resonant film. The highlight of the film for me was seeing Sean Bean again. His presence in films is an iota of what it should be and he gives one of the films best performances. Not having yet seen the following two instalments of this series I can not say with confidence this film will not be elevated when viewed in context. At this point, what I can say with confidence is Red Riding: 1974 was not an enjoyable experience. Perhaps, then, it was a success in its own right.

Read all my reviews simonsaysmovies.blogspot.com

I'll start by saying that I was expecting to like this before I watched it. Whether that had a bearing on my judgement, I can't really say.

'Nineteen Seventy-Four' has shades of 'Taxi Driver', the narrative framed not by the steam that rises from the streets of New York City but instead by the skies of Yorkshire. The comparison between the two movies really occurred to me most strongly at the end of the film and I think you'll see why.

The acting is spot on from everybody. I can't think of one performance that stands out for the wrong reasons. Andrew Garfield is excellent in the lead role and Sean Bean is on form.

The exploration of police corruption and the struggle for both revenge and justice resonate well beyond the ending of the film.

The cinematography is excellent and it is disappointing that films of this quality have to be shown on television because they won't find enough of an audience in the majority of British cinemas.

I must have missed something while watching "Red Riding: In the Year of Our Lord 1974" because I did not see a spectacular film as some tend to say about it. What I saw was a well made film but nothing so outstanding about a journalist trying to stop a serial killer who murdered little girls back in 1974.

Eddie Dunford (Andrew Garfield) is a persistent yet very naive journalist trying to solve the case behind the disappearance of some girls from the surroundings. The more he goes with the story he'll find more and more trouble, to the point of having a strange tendency of getting punched by corrupt cops who don't want him near of the people who might know what's the truth behind the deaths. Haven't we seen that before?

The film wasn't strong enough to make me feel deeply interested at certain parts (the course of Eddie's investigations are quite boring, so in order to lift things higher the director gives us lots of sex scenes, a little bit pointless but interesting to see, specially because Garfield is in all of that). It's very well made, well acted specially by Garfield and Sean Bean, who plays a powerful businessman. The historical reconstruction, art direction and costumes (the corny pants Andrew wears are priceless) are really good. But I'm a little saturated of plots like that, very surpriseless and very obvious.

So, I made my point of what works in this piece. If you think you should see it go forward. It's up to you. Totally recommendable for fans of Garfield, Bean, Eddie Marsan, Peter Mullan, David Morrissey and others. 6/10

The "Red Riding Trilogy" (based on the novels by David Peace), originally screened on British TV last year. The three films clock in at just short of five hours. I found out about this trilogy of films after reading a review in The New Yorker magazine, though I can't remember whether it was David Denby or Anthony Lane who wrote about "Red Riding Trilogy", but whoever it was, gave the films a very favourable review. So good, that I wanted to see the films for myself because it's not often that either David Denby or Anthony Lane who gave this film such fulsome praise. The first film in the trilogy deals with a series of child murders and one journalist's attempts to find out who is responsible for these atrocities. The second film is set against the backdrop of the efforts of the police to catch the notorious Yorkshire Ripper, while the final film revisits what happened in the first film. Woven into this apparently simple plot-line, is a back-story about corruption in the West Yorkshire police, and its ties to organized crime. Each film is labyrinthine in their complexities, and you have to pay close attention, otherwise what is revealed in the first film, won't make much sense in the second and third films. The acting is first class, though the direction in the second film is pedestrian compared to the other two films. My only gripe is the sound quality especially in the first film, as if the actors are talking with mouths stuffed with cotton wool. Otherwise, the "Red Riding Trilogy" is a gem, and deserves a viewing.

A binge watching of RED RIDING TRILOGY, three TV movies adapted from David Peace's RED RIDING QUARTET, where its second chapter 1977 is skipped. Directed by three different directors in three different formats: 1974 by Julian Jarrold in 16mm film, 1980 by James Marsh in 35mm film and 1983 by Anand Tucked with Red One digital camera, the trilogy forebodingly trawls into the organized crimes and police corruption in West Yorkshire through the prisms of three different protagonists while they are wrestling with a series of murder cases, and overall, it inspires to achieve a vérité similitude of the bleak milieu while sometimes being mired with its own navel- gazing, such as narrative banality (1974), over-calculated formality (1980) and poorly indicated flashback sequences (1983).

In 1974, the bright-young-thing Eddie Dunford (Garfield) is an ambitious crime reporter for The Yorkshire Post, who takes it on himself to probe three similar cases of missing or murdered teenage girls, which puts his own life on the line. He hits every nook and cranny of procedural clichés, from losing a dear colleague Barry Gannon (Flanagan). who knows too much of the dirty business (after being inauspiciously warned about his own safety) nevertheless withholds crucial information from Eddie, to the police's porous covering-up of the culprit with a scapegoat Michael Myshkin (Mays), until Eddie meets Paul Garland (Hall), who channels a shopworn ambiguity between a grieved damsel-in-distress and an inscrutable gangster's moll, whom he incurably falls in love with. Finally his path comes across with John Dawson (Bean), a local real estate magnate, and after succumbs to an excruciating reality check signed by both Dawson and police force, Eddie despondently realizes he cannot save nobody, a final vigilante bloodbath is his last gamble to right the wrong in the only option he is left with (again, manipulated). The movie is shot in subdued retro-sheen, Garfield fleshes out Eddie's fix with absorbing commitment, and Hall is magnificent to behold in her blond charisma.

I didn't pick this film up expecting a laugh-riot but having heard a lot about the bungled Yorkshire Ripper investigation, I fully expected an intelligent and insightful work from "1974". Yet coming away from this movie I feel even more confused than I did before I began. There was too little background about the case, the era and the characters given, as if the directors assumed that their audience had read the book and/or were living in Yorkshire during the 70s. Sadly, neither is true in my case and if the makers wouldn't have assumed as much they could have added a lot of meat to this story while keeping a broad range of viewers interested. The star-crossed lovers subplot (or was it the main plot??) was irritatingly predictable, so much so that I was shouting at the screen for the last half of the movie, to the chagrin of my neighbours. And most of the characters came across as shallow and seemed to drift through the film in a timeless, listless haze of futility.

Having said that one of the big pros was watching Sean Bean, who was very easy on the eyes and acting his heart out. "1974" is also very sleek, although the beautifully-shot landscape is so depressing that you sometimes wonder why they made the effort.

In conclusion, I will watch next movie in the hopes that it will shed more light on the Yorkshire Ripper case but I have to admit this was not a great start.

In the DVD extras on this series, the director is reluctant to describe this series as "noir" but that's exactly how I'd describe it. It's not just average noir, it's inky black.

If you like the noir genre, then rent this series right away. No need to even bother reading the reviews! This is spectacularly good noir.

If you don't like noir, then stay clear of this series... you'll hate them.

If you're new or ambivalent to the noir genre -- be warned that you won't be rewarded with even the dust of a warm fuzzy. But you will be rewarded with fantastic writing, layered story telling, great acting, quality cinematography, compelling characters and, simply, some of the best TV I've ever seen.

Probably the only caveat are the Yorkshire accents which are heavy. I enjoy accents and usually have no trouble understanding them but it's not just the accents ... it's the grammar and vocabulary too. But, if you're fine with subtitles, then it's no problem.

This is the first part of a trilogy about a serial murderer that kidnaps, rapes and kills little girls. As a young and emotional rookie journalist does his own investigations concerning the most recent and third murder, local police officers, entrepreneurs and even his own boss try do everything to hide a mysterious secret surrounding the murders. No one is innocent in this circle of corruption, power and abuse.

The first part of this trilogy is a very atmospheric film noir. It is a slow paced investigation that takes place in a rainy, grey and desperate entourage and where the main character discovers the evil that men do. While the beginning of the movie is a little bit boring and doesn't explain enough the first murders of the possible serial killer, the film gets more profound, intense and even shocking towards the ending and you really get absorbed by a dark and destructive atmosphere during the last thirty minutes of this movie that makes you watch the follow-up immediately.

The story is complex and many characters are introduced in the frustrating beginning but towards the end of the movie, you get used to all those characters and are able to create connections between them and that helps you to understand and appreciate the movie more and more. The actors are doing a quite well and authentic job and not only because of the very particular accent and entourage. Andrew Garfield plays a solid role as a young, naive and emotional journalist that does many mistakes during his quest for the truth. Rebecca Hall is doing a great job and plays the role of a disturbed and mysterious femme fatale with a tragic destiny. Sean Benn does an incredible job by playing the role of a rich, cold and dangerous businessman.

The best part of the movie is its very brutal and yet twisted ending that is filmed in a very intense way. The director did a great overall job in this movie and created some very intense footages that add a lot to the atmosphere of the movie. The way he cuts the final scenes and also the dream or hallucination sequences is very eerie and special. Concerning the end of the movie, I would like to give you the advice to check out the three deleted scenes on the DVD that add a special something to the atmosphere of the movie and to its end. I don't understand why those scenes have been deleted because they are all very strong and not filler material.

I've mentioned a lot of positive points and you might ask yourself why I didn't give eight or even nine stars to the movie. That's because of the slow paced beginning, the cliché that everything and everybody is corrupted, evil and brutal and that some events during this movie are too predictable because of that. The movie is intense and absorbing but up to the last thirty minutes there isn't much tension. There is also especially one scene that I found strange, as the young journalist gives the life's work of his deceased partner and friend to a young police officer. This scene has simply a lack of logic in my opinion and doesn't fit with the behaviour of the journalist that did everything on his own without caring about laws or instructions and that had some very bad experiences with the police.

But all in all, this is a very absorbing and authentic film noir with an excellent ending that makes me look forward to watch the follow-up quickly. If you like this genre, this movie is a most-have and highlight for you and if you like ordinary movies about criminal investigations you may get disturbed by the dark and brutal ending of the movie that distinguishes this film from the ordinary ones. No matter in which category you fit, I would highly recommend you this film and encourage you to not give up during the overlong introduction because the second part of the movie is more than worth the wait.

One of the stupier movies I've seen in a while. The "heroic" journalist is a borderline idiot, and masochistic beyond all reason; he seriously needs to get a clue, but never does. He's just a punching-bag for the bad guys.

The plot is highly contrived, with lots of way-too-convenient coincidences. Lots of gloomy, nihilistic atmosphere, if you like that sort of thing, and lots of hand-wringing over what a wicked, wicked world we live in, but ultimately this movie is not up to much.

(But yes, Andrew Garfield is nude...a lot...if that is what you were looking for.)

I bought the Red Riding Trilogy on DVD last week. I've reading up on all the praise and the kind of story it portrays.

If you like stories that has police Corruption, with serial killers on the side and the Press interwoven in three movies, than this is a nice way to pass the time.

I am not English, so the back stories, truth or fiction, i was not that familiar with. The thing i did know, was the stellar cast that's in it. As a movie buff, its nice to see the cream of the crop of English actors.Sean Bean makes the effort for the most of the time worth seeing. But there are more. Class Actor Warren Clarke gives a short but intense moment as the chief of police. And another copper called Bob Craven, here played by Sean Harris. I saw this guy in several movies like Harry Brown and 24 hour party people, and i can tell you he scares the hell out of me (if you get a change to get the DVD, watch the making of 1980, you'll get the picture).

But the man who must lead you through this story of corruption and missing children is Eddie Dunford, played by Andrew Garfield. He is cocky, thorough reporter, who has a weakness for the ladies. He even starts a romantic relationship with one of the victims mother's (Rebecca Hall. I thought Garfield did a great acting job, just as he did in 2007s Boy A. Here he also gets reunited another actor from that movie, Peter Mullan.

I'm happy that the film doesn't use any archive footage of the real murders. It stands as mostly a fictional story thats very well shot. The look is very authentic and the Smokey atmosphere helps a lot.

The only criticism for me is, you feel its made for television. I get the point that it was meant for cable release in the UK, therefore i am easy on the score, because for a TV production, this is topnotch.

I yet have to see 1983, but i already like the way 1980 has so much hints to 1974, that it really does justice as a Trilogy and as individual films.

Final Judgement 8 out of 10

The 'Red Riding' trilogy tells the story of serial killers, corrupt businessmen, paedophile priests and brutal policemen in Yorkshire, England; and is clearly inspired by certain real-life incidents during the 1970s and 1980s. But the drama's celebrated darkness seems to me to be in large part simply wilful obscurantism in the storytelling, coupled with a certain fetish for horridness that loses impact because we fail to see it in the context of an otherwise functioning society. While there are numerous visual clues to set each episode in its period, the references are shallow; I got a far better sense of time and place from 'Our Friends in the North' than I did from the grotesque world displayed here. To me at least, serial killers are actually pretty boring, a fortunately rare social anomaly; and while there have certainly been plenty of wicked policemen in our country, the lengths to which the cops in this world go strain plausibility. There are some good performances; Peter Mullan is excellent, Joseph Maule quite chilling as the Yorkshire Ripper, and the reliably brilliant Paddy Considine is predictably compelling. But Channel 4 billed this as dark, ambitious and one of the dramas of the year; and after such claims, I was disappointed; not so much dark, as dull.

I need to respond to the reprehensible "shilling" review of this trilogy by David Thomson (I have his Biographical Dictionary of Film on my bookshelf -but he's gone bonkers), duly handed out to all of us roadshow attendees in Greenwich Village at the former Waverly Theatre. He compared these films to The Godfather (trilogy), claiming Coppola's work was "oldfashioned" and that RR was better.

Thomson has fallen victim to a very common pitfall for critics -the "I'm afraid of being considered an old fogey" syndrome. Instead of sticking to his convictions, he praises shoddy, so-called modern junk for fear of being out-of-date by somebody's reckoning. It's the syndrome that has put classic cinema in the shadows as critics embrace showy "Look at me!" inferior material from the likes of Von Trier, Tarantino and Nolan. In his notes Thomson admits after 3 DVD viewings of RR he can't recite its storyline, but declares boldly that in these days of DVD/Blu-Ray the conventional screenplay format (beginning/middle/end) is officially dead! What a pitiful apologist he has become.

Posing as avant garde filming, this first episode is strictly amateur night. Lest director Jarrold protest (I suffered through his unneeded and in the event botched remake of BRIDESHEAD REVISITED a couple years back at my local Chelsea cinema), let me point out that in a key scene set in a narrow alley he repeatedly violates the most basic rule of reverse shot filming and editing: cutting across the centerline, so the two characters' heads keep jumping back & forth at screen left and right during the scene, ruining it. Was that avant garde? NO, it was merely incompetence.

In the later reels I found myself, almost audibly, thinking "is he dreaming?" as clumsy editing, fake flash forwards and other dreamlike material created confusion rather than artistry as the young reporter got deeper and deeper into his living nightmare. Jarrold's cheap-looking visuals, and total absence of composition (in the theatrical projection faces and foreheads were lopped off willy-nilly, and not the fault of the projectionist or wrong aspect ratio) is a bummer.

This poorly-written trilogy could have been shaped into a concise, perhaps powerful, single film with a few story conferences and perhaps some talent from the scribe involved. It is actually a horror film, as morbid as any shocker, and lacks the steady accretion of detail that marks a successful mystery/policier, dating back to Edgar Allan Poe or Conan Doyle, let alone the popular British TV prototypes starring Helen Mirren, Robbie Coltrane (Jarrold worked on that one) or even recently Kenneth Branagh. Instead we have the corny horror format (so beloved by H.P. Lovecraft, but a staple of '70s/'80s gore epics) of a stranger entering a close-knit, backwater community with danger everywhere. The political thriller aspects cry out for a master like Costa-Gavras (his more recent AMEN. proves the genius of the '60s and '70s still has his chops) or Sidney Lumet, not the three hacks Jarrold, Marsh and Tucker given the assignment.

Most irritating to me after sitting for 5 hours plus 2 intermissions was the way the central mystery material turned out to be treated as just a pair of McGuffins. The serial (presumed) abductions of young girls and later string of more than a dozen Ripper-styled murders were given perfunctory investigations in each film, but the viewer never gets deeply into the procedural aspects. Each of the 3 poorly cast protagonists, reporter, investigator and lawyer, seems slow-witted and dense, never even a fly-speck match for the totality of evil organization they are pitted against. Even on the most banal of TV shows of the Perry Mason, Arrest & Trial or Dick Wolf's endless set of Law & Order ilk there is more attention to capturing the viewer's interest and leading him or her on a merry chase. Umberto Eco analyzed the principle involved, and for our dear RED RIDING maestros to abandon it, and treat the crimes/clues contemptuously is not a great step forward in storytelling but rather a huge mistake.

In each segment the male protagonist hops into bed with a leading lady with no buildup or credible story logic -in fact one minute she hates him -the next minute it's late night pay-cable sexploitation time. Lest anyone expect RED RIDING to be sexually titillating, however, au contraire. It fits firmly into the currently popular torture-porn mode, though thankfully we're spared the expected SILENCE OF THE LAMBS bondage action. Instead, the leads, especially 1974's reporter, are given noisy and vivid torturings that would give John Yoo (the law professor, not a filmmaker) a thrill; it reminded me of the old drive-in horrors: "Keep repeating, it's only a movie, it's only a movie...".

Scorecard: 1974 by Jarrold: inept and overheated; 1980 by Marsh: deadly dull and lifeless; 1983 by Tucker: lame attempt to tie up loose ends, fraught with anticlimaxes.

Final defect: early in Part 1 there is a minor character introduced in a purely functional role, but the casting is a dead giveaway: the actor is pivotal in so many British films of late including a starring turn in a Western by Winterbottom (which I hated). He sticks out like a sore thumb, so when in Part 3 he turns out to be the MAJOR villain -score no points for fooling the viewer. Again, even film school denizens don't make this mistake: they are stuck with fresh, unfamiliar faces, which can pay dividends in the mystery genre.

STAR RATING: ***** Saturday Night **** Friday Night *** Friday Morning ** Sunday Night * Monday Morning

Eddie Dunford (Andrew Garfield) is a young journalist who failed to make it big in London and has returned to the small Yorkshire town where he grew up, where a series of missing children have the police force puzzled. His old friend Barry Gannon (Anthony Flanigan) believes there's a conspiracy going on and claims to have evidence of police corruption. But as Eddie digs deeper into the mystery, he uncovers a chain of corruption standing in the way of solving the case involving local government, corrupt police and mysterious property developer John Dawson (Sean Bean) who casts a whole new light on things.

You can never rely much on quality drama from Channel 4, but at least this three part mystery thriller shown earlier this year had potential and was a good attempt at something riveting. Sadly the introduction, while well made and intriguing enough, doesn't produce quite the result that would be needed to hold viewers to see it through to the end.

Everything's in monotone, with the soundtrack and the opening delivery of lead actor Garfield so soft it's hard to hear. Maybe it was just the DVD I watched it on, but I sees what I sees. The first part establishes an effective air of mystery and atmosphere, but the script and delivery of the actors seems so deep and lost in itself that it's hard to keep track of the story and the result is all mood and no substance. It's well acted enough, from lead star Garfield and supporting actors Anthony Flanigan (even if he is the exact double of Bill Denbrough out of Stephen King's It!) as well as Daeziel and Pascoe star Warren Clarke as a cold and charmless police captain. As the most high profile star out the lot, Bean naturally commands the most attention in his supporting role and he lifts it all above a notch with a natural presence in his role. But this all goes completely over your head too much, lost in it's own arthousy trip without any solid foundation to keep your attention. Too bad. **

The opening chapter; Red Riding: 1974 (as there's another two to follow -- 1980 and 1983) sees everything get set in motion with a real can of worms opening up, as a young ambitious newspaper journalist puts his nose in the wrong place (investigating a case involving a serial killer targeting young girls in the Yorkshire area) and finds out he seems to be stepping on toes --- influential ones too and they don't like it. Despite the warnings (some quite psychical) to scare him off, he continues on and digs up some unflattering information about the men in blue. 1974 might be the start of the darkly daunting and uncomfortable three part British crime thriller TV mini-series (adapted from David Peace's Red Riding Quartet), but this audacious drama really does set up the making of a great beginning --- by pulling you in and never leaving your mind as it only scrapes the surface. Never does it have you feeling quite sure about certain characters and unearthed secrets, as fear and ambiguity seems to reek from its considerably grim atmospherics amongst a dour and crumbling working class setting. There's a real sense of place and time. Can a film be as beautiful, but at the same time be ugly. In a way this contrast does finds itself here. The characters are from clean cut with inner demons and complex drawings in where they find themselves in a depressingly decayed and scarred state. Innocence has no place. The forlorn (if exquisitely projected) landscapes only enhance the haunting starkness (with striking compositions) and so does the lyrically melancholy music score. Pain and alienation rings tight, where hope can only leave a bitter taste. What makes it more impressive, is while it might be dialogue heavy this is where its intensity arrives from. So when the brutal force / violent actions make their way in, the devastating imagery simply made me cringe. It compels, where it alarmingly draws you in to a world that's corrupt and the looming threat of the situation is never far away in what is a deeply plotted story of calculative and cold-blooded scheming. Director Julian Jarrold's sober handling might be humidly earthy in style, but he illustrates the mystery effectively with his slow-burn timing and gets profound performances by his committed British ensemble cast. Andrew Garfield is reliably good in the lead role, while feeding off in tremendous support is Anthony Flanagan, Sean Bean, Peter Mullan, Warren Clarke, David Morrisey, Rebecca Hall and Sean Harris.

I missed this trilogy when it was first shown on TV, heard great things about it, and finally caught up with it when they repeated it recently.

A mystery about a series of child abductions eventually turns out to be more about corruption in the Yorkshire police than anything else, but boy what a production! This has to be one of the darkest, most downbeat slices of television I've witnessed, and yet it's so well made, so compelling that you can't stop watching.

Garfield's cocky journo wasn't my favourite of the series leads - I felt no sympathy for him - but what a supporting cast! Sean Bean headlines as the big name, but it's a shock to see friendly favourites like Warren Clarke playing complete bastards.

The story meanders with one too many sub-plots to easily follow, but things gradually become clearer as the trilogy progresses. More than anything I'm reminded of Scorcese's TAXI DRIVER as a similar story of one man's disintegration...

The Red Riding Trilogy is one of the most dense, absolutely impenetrable pieces of work I've ever seen, let alone attempted to dissect with my clunky writing skills. It's also fairly horrifying, as it chronicles the tale of the Yorkshire Ripper, an elusive and mysterious serial child killer who terrorized this area of Britain through the late 70's and early 80's. Viler still are the strong implications that very powerful people, including the brass of the West Yorkshire police, made every disgusting attempt to cover up the crimes and protect the killer, who's murders included that of children. It's a brave move by UK's Channel 4 to openly make such notions obvious within their story, and commendable the level of patience, skill and strong ambition in the undertaking is quite the payoff, whilst simultaneously taking a toll on you for sitting through it. The sheer scope of it must be noted; it's separated into three feature length films, each vastly different in setting, character and tone, and each blessed with a different director. The filmmakers even went as far as to film the first, which is set in 1974, in 16mm, the second in 35mm being set in 1980 and the third makes a leap to high definition video and takes place in 1983. Such a progression of time is a dismal reflection of the sticky corruption which clings to societies, decaying them stealthily over years, and the few keen individuals who will not let the truth die as long as there is a glimmer of uncertainty. Now, if you asked me exactly what happens over the course of this trilogy, who is who, what has happened to which characters and who is guilty, I simply wouldn't be able to tell you. It's a deliberately fractured narrative told through the prism of dishonest, corrupt psyches and has no use for chronology either. Characters who you saw die in the first film show up in the subsequent ones, actors replace each other in certain roles, and there's just such a thick atmosphere of confusion and despair that in the 302 minute running time I was not able to make complete sense. I think this is a great tactic to help you realize that the film means to show the futile, cyclical nature of reality, as opposed to a traditionally structured story with a clear cut conclusion. Events spiral into each other with little rhyme or reason, until we feel somewhat lost, knowing full well that terrible events are unfolding in front of our eyes, events that are clouded and just out of our comprehensive grasp in a way that unsettles you and makes you feel as helpless as the few decent people trying to solve the case. One such person is an investigative reporter searching for the truth in the first film, played by Andrew Garfield. He stumbles dangerously close to answers which are promptly yanked away by the sinister forces of the Yorkshire police, brutalized and intimidated into submission. He comes close though, finding a lead in suspiciously sleazy real estate tycoon Sean Bean, who's clearly got ties to whatever is really going on. The level of willful corruption demonstrated by the police is sickening. "To the North, where we do what we want" bellows a chief, toasting dark secrets to a roomful of cop comrades who are no doubt just as involved as him. The kind of blunt, uncaring dedication to evil is the only way to explain such behaviour, because in the end it's their choice and they know what they're doing. Were these officers as vile as the film depicts in the real life incidents? Someone seems to think so. Who's to know? Probably no one ever at this point, a dreadful feeling which perpetuates the themes of hopelessness. The second film follows a nasty Police Chief (David Morrissey) who is bothered by old facts re emerging and seems to have a crisis of conscience. Or does he? The clichéd cinematic logline "no one is what they seem" has never been more pertinent than in these three films. It's gets to a point where you actually are anticipating every single person on screen to have some buried evil that will get upturned. A priest (Peter Mullan is superb) shows up in the second film only to be involved in dark turns of the third. Sean Bean's character and his legacy hover over everything like a black cloud. A mentally challenged young man is held for years under suspicion of being the Ripper. A disturbed abuse survivor (wild eyed Robert Sheehan) seeks retribution. A Scotland Yard Detective (Paddy Considine) nobly reaches for truth. Many other characters have conundrums of roles to play in a titanic cast that includes Cara Seymour, Mark Addy, Sean Harris, James Fox, Eddie Marsan, Shaun Dooley, Joseph Mawle and more. The process in which the story unfolds is almost Fincher - esque in its meticulous assembly, each character and plot turn a cog in a vast machine whose purpouse and ultimate function are indeed hard to grasp. I need to sit down and watch it at least two more times through before the cogs turn in a way that begins to make sense to me, and a measurable story unfolds. It's dark, dark stuff though, presenting humanity at its absolute worst, and in huge quantities too, nightmarish acts that go to huge levels of effort just to produce evil for.. well, it seems just for evil's sake, really. The cast and filmmakers craft wonderful work though, and despite the blackness there is a macabre, almost poetic allure to it, beauty in terror so to speak. It's rough, it's long, it's dense and it thoroughly bucks many a cinematic trend that let's you reside in your perceptive comfort zone, beckoning you forth with extreme narrative challenge, an unflinching gaze into the abyss no promise of catharsis at the end of the tunnel. There's nothing quite like it, I promise you.