May the wrath of God help the last remaining inhabitants of an obscure, wee Scottish Island as documentary maker Corinna McFarlane (Three Miles North of Molkom (2008)) tries her hand at fiction writing and directing with The Silent Storm. It’s a credit to this fledging feature filmmaker that such an impressive cast came onboard – Damian Lewis formerly of Homeland and Andrea Riseborough of Oblivion – and for the most part, she is indebted to them for making any sense of this wild tale.

After the mill closes and the locals must depart for the mainland to earn a living, Protestant preacher Balor (Lewis) and his younger, loyal wife Aislin (Riseborough) remain on a remote Scottish island. The hardline minister is convinced that life (and industry) will return one day soon – and so will his flock. Prone to violent outbursts and abuse, Balor tries to busy himself for that day while Aislin retreats to being at one with nature and her Pagan beliefs in healing, much to her staunch religious husband’s annoyance.

One day, Balor gets a call from a charity that a Glaswegian youth with a supposed past, Fionn (Ross Anderson of Unbroken) will be entrusted into their care, with the hope of ‘curing’ the violent error of his ways. Island outcast Aislin sees a kindred spirit in this young delinquent, and feelings develop between the pair as they spend more time together. They grow stronger when fanatical Balor decides to dismantle the local kirk (church) and take it by boat to the mainland, leaving them alone on the island.

There is something quite engaging about The Silent Storm when the plot is very thin. It’s a combination of the landscape, the rugged weather and some intense performances that prop it up. After trying to work out the time period it’s set in – apparently between World Wars, though it could be anything from the 40s through to the late 50s, the next hurdle before you settle down to the enveloping storm is getting over the bizarre accents.

Both Lewis and Riseborough are naturally captivating, pouring their heart and soul into their bleak portrayals, but speaking in Scottish tongue is not their forte, especially Lewis. In fact, even though we are given clues as to Aislin’s bizarre arrival on the island, she could be anything from Scottish to French to Scandinavian as her accent continually morphs and is distracting. The only reason for her marriage to controlling Balor is one of being press-ganged into the union, perhaps, or out of safety and harms way from the other religious islanders.

The cinematography fuels the mood swings this film has, with warmer colours – and more colourful clothing for Aislin when her husband’s away – contrasted with a stormy, Turner-styled palette for painting the black, alcohol-fuelled scenes with barmy Balor. This is equally effective in setting the atmosphere, but could just be another well-intentioned diversion from the limited plot.

 

The story takes a trippy turn when Aislin and Fionn spend a day away in the forest, completely changing the film’s tempo and injecting some (unintentional) humour. It seems McFarlane may have spent too much time back in 2008 with the inhabitants of Ängsbacka, and wants to recreate those fun-filled hippy moments in this. It just confuses matters, taking us away from the solitary confinement that the film does well to create.

Still, the director copes well with killing the happy, clappy mood, back at the Balor house. And just when there seems to be almighty fallout building when the preacher finds out, things fizzle out before all hell is unleashed. Again, Lewis and co keep the acute tension in their love triangle tight and suffocating – it’s just anyone’s guess as to where things go next.

The Silent Storm is a fair effort in feature filmmaking, but perhaps, McFarlane should tackle another stronger writer’s material in future with the same kind of tools and talent. That said those who can’t get enough of Lewis and Riseborough will not be disappointed. Whether this indie film makes enough of a rumble when released is anyone’s guess too.