The bleak wilds of the crofts of the Hebrides were a barren and heavily religious place around the start of the 20th century, where the folk were grim but true and fair. Against this backdrop, The Road Dance tells a story of a crofting village and the travails of Kirsty MacLeod (Hermione Corfield).

Kirsty and her sister Annie (Ali Fumiko Whitney) work the land on their small farm with their widowed mother (Morven Christie). There are a few boys in the village, and it’s bookish and quiet Murdo (Will Fletcher) who has caught Kirsty’s eye. While their gentle courtship plays out, the call to war is made. Soon the boys of the village are all to be called up and the town hosts a gathering, complete with a “road dance” to see them off safely. That night, in the dark and the drink, Kirsty is assaulted and left pregnant, a secret she decides to keep from almost everyone. Although she does not know who the assailant was, she is certain of the stain it would be upon her character.

This is Richie Adams’ first film with a serious budget and a large cast, and for the most part it’s an entertaining enough story. Certainly one area the film is can be greatly commended on is the use of the Scottish scenery and the real-life Gearrannan Blackhouse Village where much of the location work was filmed and the story is set. In fact, the cinematography is excellent throughout; never feeling showy, but still capturing the beauty of the rugged and awesome landscape.

The story, on the other hand, drawn from John MacKay‘s 2002 novel, is a more close and quiet thing, dwelling as it does on the feelings of Kirsty and her precarious situation after the assault. It’s here where the film falters, and it’s unfortunate that comparisons between this material and both Atonement and Sunset Song are all but impossible to avoid. But considering the relative lack of Great War era stories of young women on crofts and the thematic similarities of the traumatic assault, they are perhaps fair to make. In either case, The Road Dance does come up feeling like a second-place runner to both. The story, while competently told, only hints at the promise the opening act sets up as it implies briefly that the rest will play out with the mystery of the assailant as a solid part of the story. Yet while plenty of time is devoted to Kirsty’s ongoing stress and fear, the question of her attacker feels almost forgotten at times, and in any case the outcome is painfully predictable almost from the start, due to the film’s failure to spend any onscreen time with most of the male characters in the village.

The cast acquit themselves well, with Corfield as the solid foundation the rest of the film stands upon, but with great support from Whitney and Christie. There’s the requisite scene-chewing from an understated Mark Gatiss as the village doctor, and a delightful turn by Alison Peebles as the curmudgeonly Old Peggy, tutting and prying into everyone’s business. This is despite some of the script feeling perfunctory and a lot of the exposition fairly blunt throughout. The result is a story which is at times moving, and compelling enough overall, but hampered by a lack of storytelling scope and by leaning into some very blunt dialogue and flat storytelling. These shortcomings hamstring the emotional power this tale could have mustered and makes it all feel more like a community theatre piece, rather than the film it looks like it ought to be.

Screening as part of the Edinburgh International Film Festival 2021