Inland review – rickety Lynch riff only shows splashes of imagination

Inland is uneven and shaky, though there are splashes of imagination littered throughout. The headline star is Mark Rylance, seen here slumming it as a mechanic out in rural Gloucestershire. He's a father figure to another man (Rory Alexander), who arrives after spending some time in a mental institute; a violent breakdown following the mysterious disappearance of his mother. He returns, at odds with himself and the world, drifting between nights out with sketchy blokes and revisiting old haunts. Rylance gives a typically solid performance, but Alexander (his character goes unnamed) does a very good job of conveying the sense of injustice, inequity and broken-ness that’s shaped the protagonist’s life.

Inland’s building blocks are in essence taken from generic – troubled men with mysterious pasts, unknowable women, sleazy supporting casts – and there’s nothing wrong that as long as the textures behind this do something interesting. To that end, we have a grab-bag of ideas, some successful, some not. Folk-horror symbolism comes into view (its suggested that the mother’s disappearance is to do with spirits of the land); a brothel/nightclub is draped in Lynchian red velvet and its employees represented by Greek-style statues; the rural poverty of Gloucestershire gels with the aforementioned folk-horror elements, shabby council estates crumbling atop ancient pagan folklore.

It’s this last texture that is strongest, leaving the most lasting impression. Plenty of the action is set around the Forest of Dean, one of the UK’s ancient woodlands; it’s an area traditionally associated with the picture-postcard version of “bucolic” England, yet many of the towns nearby are impoverished, with significantly high rates of inequality. The film roots itself in this geography, giving shape to the character’s lives, lingering over them like the Sword of Damocles. Sound design and dialogue are frequently deployed to liken Alexander’s body to a tree.

It’s rich material for filmmaking, which is a shame as Inland doesn’t quite deliver on it, distracting itself with other threads that feel stretched even in an 80 minute film. The Lynch nods are visually engaging but essentially empty, fundamentally misunderstanding Lynch by reducing him to MYSTERIOUS RED VELVET. And is the title meant to evoke Inland Empire? Once we move away from the central themes of the film, there’s little cinematic imagination at play. Elsewhere, much of the supporting cast seem a bit unsure of themselves, two-dimensional afterthoughts in a rickety film – though given that this is a low-budget feature, even by British independent standards, I’m inclined to give the benefit of the doubt on a few of these instances.

There is skill on show in Inland. Director Fridjof Ryder has a knack for visual trickery, with some nicely warped sequences set in the forest that highlight his promise. But a lack of real directorial focus distracts proceedings and ultimately hampers the film.

Inland is released in UK cinemas on 16 June.