Dark River elevates generic drama through the sheer force of its conviction
A familiar tale told with intense conviction, Clio Barnard’s Dark River depicts two adult lives still caught in the undertow of childhood trauma. Alice (Ruth Wilson) has just returned to the English farm where she grew up, having spent the past 15 years as an itinerant worker all over the globe; her father recently died, leaving her tenancy rights to the family’s badly run-down property. Or so she believes. Her older brother, Joe (Mark Stanley), who took care of Dad solo during the old man’s declining years, understandably feels a certain possessiveness about the home he never left, and no small amount of resentment toward Alice. He initiates a competing claim that would allow him to evict her and sell off the farm’s assets, setting off a war of attrition—one that’s heavily complicated by Alice’s and Joe’s respective memories of what happened in that house many years earlier. Alice, in particular, experiences what are essentially PTSD flashbacks to those nights when her father (Sean Bean) would make his way to her bedroom.