With a sigh and a shake of the head, we must face the first blatant abuse of Olivia Colman since she became a big deal. Joyride is a cheerfully harmless Irish comedy-drama that this great actress has nothing to do with: she’s not out of place, just out of place. That the film struggles to make sense of anything with or without her is half the problem – it depends on the supposed goodwill of the audience it hasn’t earned, and expects it to fill many of the gaps.
Colman’s character is called Joy – oh my gosh – and starts the movie single and stunned, with a newborn baby when she thought she had closed the shop. She’s napping in the backseat of a taxi when the first of the script’s many desperately unlikely events occurs.
A 12-year-old boy named Mully (Charlie Reid) has just fallen from a charity fund in honor of his late mother, in an attempt to prevent his dorky father (Lochlann Ó Mearáin) from pocketing the proceeds. Mully runs off with a lot of money and gives the nearest car a boost. This just happens to be the taxi that Joy is in while the driver is busy moving her suitcase.
Mully is halfway across town before realizing he’s carrying a screaming baby, plus an Oscar winner sniffing a bit excessively. Joy doesn’t wake until morning and demands control of the situation: she must hand the baby over to a friend, perhaps forever, and fly to Lanzarote. You’d almost think she’d watched The Prodigal Daughter for life lessons.
That was a strange, slippery film that presented Colman with fascinating opportunities; this is a strenuous crowd pleaser that puts her in a gaudy yellow coat and is larded with a daunting amount of Irish sentimentality. The script gives everyone a change of heart you could set your watch on. It’s also important for bonding, but it’s hard not to think that Mully, who comes across as a natural born survivor, would be as free from screwed up Joy as his heartless, manipulative father.