And Arnold's control is matched by Dickie's. A well-regarded British television actress making her first appearance in a feature, she is a haunted, haunting presence, keeping an almost terrifying intensity hidden just beneath her drab exterior. As Jackie moves closer to Clyde, crashing one of his parties, hanging out at his local pub, it is hard to tell what, if anything, she has planned. Is she after revenge? Reconciliation? Or is she even aware of what she wants, or what she's doing? Dickie's achievement, and Arnold's, is to hold all of these possibilities in suspension, so that you feel you are watching someone approaching an impossible, dangerous choice.
It feels almost inappropriate to witness such agony at such close range, but it is also a form of poetic justice, given Jackie's profession and her abuse of it. Beyond that, the queasy mixture of sympathy and curiosity that Red Road evokes is evidence of a talented, risk-taking filmmaker discovering her power.
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