Based on the life of Rose Dugdale, a former debutante who rebelled against her wealthy upbringing, becoming a volunteer in the militant Irish republican organisation, the Provisional Irish Republican Army
Directed by Christine Molloy and Joe Lawlor
Stephen McKeon’s score, percussive, churning and sometimes thunderous, heightens the feelings of determination and apprehension that course through the movie’s events
Baltimore has two significant assets as it moves chronologically around two key stages in Dugdale’s life: Poots, whose deliberate delivery will be familiar to fans of Lawlor and Molloy’s work, is mesmerising. And there is a jarred edge to the film-making, the feeling of the camera being tilted out of everyone’s comfort zone, which, when matched with a Berlioz-tinged score from Stephen McKeon, results in a sensation of almost constant, biting discomfit.
Easily the most striking element of “Baltimore” is the operatically doom and gloom score from Irish composer Stephen McKeon (“Black Mirror,” “Evil Dead Rise”); a chilling and unnerving clattering of percussion and sudden drum thwacks, atonal strings, and ominous horns as if he were composing for an eerie Stanley Kubrick that’s not quite horror, but still disturbing af.