Sun. Dec 22nd, 2024

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Reynolds, an experienced editor-turned-director, and writer Ailbhe Keogan thread a thin line between the pair’s heartbreaking confessions and the various bumps on the road. Some detours are funny, some are somber, and a few are a bit off-kilter, like a street parade where people in intimidating burlap costumes dance around Mully at a delayed, dreamy speed. He’s not dreaming, nor under the influence; it’s just a surreal moment, complete with an oversized babydoll head being carried in the street. It’s a bit on-the-nose overall, but not as much as a contrived moment on a plane when Joy is trying to leave, and the passengers rally around her like in a classic romantic comedy. Unfortunately, some of these stranger moments between heartfelt scenes throw off the tone and feel like ideas imported from another movie. 

However, other visual qualities of Reynolds’ “Joyride” are more holistic. Her collaboration with cinematographer James Mather creates a vivid sense of the Irish countryside and seaside. The film keeps gorgeous details of a foggy day as the characters walk among endless green hills and stalks of barley bouncing in the wind. As they wait to take the ferry, the blueness of the water seems to leap off the screen. The sun enters a window with a lovely glow in a boarding house’s kitchen. Even if an emotional scene may be tough to watch, their images are usually eye-catching. 

The heart and soul of “Joyride” are the two mismatched travelers brought to life by Reid and Colman’s performances. Although plenty world-weary after landing with his self-absorbed father, Mully still has childlike moments of rebellion and innocence. In one tender moment at a gas station, he plays with a musical, dancing toy, and he mimics its moves. Joy watches from afar while holding her baby and smiles as if both taking in the silly moment and perhaps thinking of her own baby’s future playtime. In a sense, she is haunted by her mother’s lifelong antipathy and is afraid she will similarly fail this child she doesn’t want. Colman’s body language here is not too dissimilar to Charlie Chaplin’s the Tramp in “The Kid,” acting as if almost physically allergic to holding a baby, let alone keeping it. Absent a maternal figure like Mully’s, Joy sometimes relies on Mully for caretaking advice since he has experience watching over younger relatives. They are both grieving their lost mothers and learning to step up for the sake of others. 

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By Dave Jenks

Dave Jenks is an American novelist and Veteran of the United States Marine Corps. Between those careers, he’s worked as a deckhand, commercial fisherman, divemaster, taxi driver, construction manager, and over the road truck driver, among many other things. He now lives on a sea island, in the South Carolina Lowcountry, with his wife and youngest daughter. They also have three grown children, five grand children, three dogs and a whole flock of parakeets. Stinnett grew up in Melbourne, Florida and has also lived in the Florida Keys, the Bahamas, and Cozumel, Mexico. His next dream is to one day visit and dive Cuba.