Here’s my usual drill at TFF: travel in to Telluride for an extended Labor Day Weekend, pick up the TFF schedule on Friday at noon, lazily pour over the schedule and all its offerings, circle the rare and “must see” films that I might never again see on the big screen, come up with “Plan B” options in case I get locked out of anything, allow for guilty pleasures, and in general just map things out as best I can (which is hard to do with all the T.B.A.’s that riddle the grid – but you do what you can). This is usually followed by the Opening Night Feed and dinner buffet. And then the films begin that evening and it’s time to dive into the thick of it. How thick does it get? Despite having a dozen roommates sharing a house, I might not see some of them again until it’s time to pack up the car and return home four days later. This year, that ritual was shattered and things started off with an unexpected bang. 

Friday at noon the line to get schedules was so long that I decided to grab a bite and come back an hour later. This I did, and with schedule now in hand it was time to get comfortable in a hot tub with some coconut juice and a highlighter pen to help make my selections. Opening up to the grid on page 25, I went to the very first film box, shown in the top left-hand corner and went to its description as written by David Thomson:

“Red Riding is a trilogy of films made for British television (by Revolution Films and Channel 4), and one of the most ambitious works of 2009 or any other recent year. It is set in West Yorkshire, a remote place for many Telluride viewers and one harder to penetrate because of the fierce local accents, but anyone caught in the creeping infection of these films will recognize a tragic achievement that surpasses that of The Godfather.”

A trilogy that surpasses The Godfather?! And… wait… films don’t normally start on Fridays until after the Opening Night Feed which isn’t until 5pm, right? Flipping back to the grid I see that, lo and behold, all three films are being shown one-after-the-other starting at 2pm: I had ten minutes to make it. In a mad splash of spilled coconut juice and hot tub turmoil I’m suddenly dragging pants over wet legs and wrestling with a t-shirt in a race out the door. Thankfully, just about everything in Telluride is walking distance, so miracles can happen when you do things at a run and I manage to squeeze myself into the theater as the lights go out. The only seats available place me awkwardly in the front row, next to a woman with the unfortunate habit of expelling air through her nose with the sad and distracting manner of a dying accordion. I’m craning my neck straight up. Oh, Lord, I wonder, am I going to be able to spend the next six hours like this? The answer is yes. And it goes by in a snap.

The three films were adapted from four novels written by David Peace, all were written for the screen by Tony Grisoni. Each film is helmed by a different director, and while each one is meant as a stand-alone piece they also unfold in chronological order and work seamlessly together when screened back-to-back. In fact, seeing them in one sitting makes it feel epic and adds emotional punch.

Red Riding: 1974 (directed by Julian Jarrold)

Jarrold has done mostly TV work, but recent feature films include Kinky Boots (2005) and Brideshead Revisited (2008). Here he proves himself very adept at moving into searingly grim terrain that is as far afield from comedy and romance as can be imagined. No, instead think of Jack the Ripper and the attendant conspiracies attached to that realm which spread from the highest levels of authority and Masonic brotherhood on out. Now toss in some of the visceral grit and grime of seventies horror as seen in Martin Scorsese’s Taxi Driver (1976), and then you’ll begin to get a bit closer to the type of textures that are being evoked now. The setting is West Yorkshire, 1974, and the accents are so thick that subtitles are provided. Our protagonist is a Yorkshire Post journalist (Andrew Garfield) who is put on a beat involving a grisly spate of abductions and killings. Young girls are getting picked up off the streets only to be found later with the wings from swans sewn into their backs. Stories involving serial killers are a dime-a-dozen, but what pulls Red Riding far aloft of the pack is the deftness with which it weaves in a variety of characters as it covers matters of class warfare, urban development, and police corruption (to name but some).

Red Riding: 1980 (directed by James Marsh)

Telluride viewers might already be familiar with Marsh’s work, thanks to Wisconsin Death Trip (1999), but it’s Man on Wire (which hit Oscar Gold this year) that really put him on the map. In Red Riding: 1980 he is given the task of pulling us out of the realm of investigative journalism in the seventies that was covered by Jarrold and this time casts an eye toward the police force as they tackle the Yorkshire Ripper. A lot of the same character from the first film are now flushed out from a different perspective as we follow a police officer (Paddy Consadine) who uncomfortably finds himself working alongside the local law enforcement. Many of the mysteries that were brought up in the first film give way to some answers, but there’s plenty of new intrigue brought in to up the ante.

Red Riding: 1983 (directed by Anand Tucker)

Like Jarrold, Tucker’s initial background is also steeped in TV, but he the branched off into feature films such as Hilary and Jackie (1998) and Shopgirl (2005). And, also like Jarrold, he rises to the task of being adept at switching gears from drama and comedy to now deliver an uncompromising bit of nasty business. This time the torch is carried by two unlikely protagonists, one an overweight attorney (Mark Addy) who lives the shadow of his father’s shameful acts, the other is a police chief (David Morrissey), a man who will be very familiar to viewers of the first two films.

The good news for anyone interested in watching the Red Riding films is that IFC has been kind enough to make 35mm prints of all three and is set to distribute them in the very near future. Although made for television, all three installments work on a very cinematic level and will reward viewers who don’t flinch easily and who can keep their eyes on the ball.

Next week I’ll go over other highlights from Telluride, but right now it’d be silly to miss watching movies in the service of covering them.