-By Doris Toumarkine

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Maybe it’s the underlying material of David Peace’s novels, but the Red Riding Trilogy, while strong in performances and atmosphere, is a daunting tangle of characters, time periods, crimes and cover-ups that is more “who’s where” than whodunit.

Awash in fine craftsmanship and bestowing some nice surprises, the films, which premiered at Telluride, are always engaging. Cinephiles attracted to the subject matter, the talent, and respectful reviews will turn up at theatres or grab IFC’s simultaneous video-on-demand release.

From the get-go, most of the “Red Riding” villains (corrupt coppers, a developer/scoundrel) are obvious and the real-life “Ripper” hunt for the killer of little girls and one woman is just a gimmick. Instead, the trilogy, set in the U.K.’s grimy Yorkshire region, is about greed, power and corruption—low behavior in high places.

Paranoia and evil run through all three films. (The “Red Riding” title surely alludes to the innocence-meets-horror clash of the fairy tale.) The recurring characters, events, and dreary locale also provide glue. But three different directors, 1974’s Julian Jarrold (the recent Brideshead Revisited), 1980’s James Marsh ( Man on Wire) and 1983’s Anand Tucker ( Hilary and Jackie), lend their own styles to Tony Grisoni’s scripts.

1974, imbued with classic noir elements and a dollop of Chinatown, has cocky rookie crime journalist Eddie Dunford (Andrew Garfield of Boy A and The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus) after the story of what might be the related crimes of missing girls in the region. His determination to connect the dots puts him at odds with editor Bill Hadley (John Henshaw) and gruff police chief Bill Molloy (Warren Clarke), the latter no one to mess with.

Eddie is AWOL when Clare Kemplay’s body is discovered. Her unsolved murder haunts the three films. He follows clues leading him to sleazy development tycoon John Dawson (Sean Bean) and inevitable cop sources, including detective inspector Maurice Jobson (David Morrissey), the right hand man of gruff detective boss Bill Molloy (Warren Clarke), and Bob Craven (Sean Harris) and Tommy Douglas (Tony Mooney), two sadistic cops without conscience. Eddie’s trust in officer Bob Fraser (Steven Robertson), to whom he hands over evidence implicating Dawson, may prove fatal.

Noir anti-hero Eddie finds his femme fatale in Paula Garland (Rebecca Hall, moving 180 degrees away from her upper-crust Vicky Cristina Barcelona role), a victim’s mother and Dawson’s squeeze. Eddie also tangles with unstable teen Leonard Cole (Gerard Kearns), who discovered Clare’s body, and his dodgy guardian, vicar Martin Laws (Peter Mullan).

Add to the character overload the mentally unstable Michael Myshkin (Daniel Mays), accused of Clare’s murder; Eddie’s colleague Barry Gannon (Anthony Flanigan), who pays the price for learning too much: and BJ (Robert Sheehan), a down-and-out rent boy wholly entrenched in the intrigue. Eddie’s investigative journey takes him to Dawson’s posh hangout The Karachi Club on a fateful, violent night that punctuates all three films.

In contrast to 1974’s grainy super-16mm evocation of Yorkshire noir, both 1980 and 1983, shot in 35mm and widescreen, are slicker. While the dank, nocturnal atmosphere doesn’t return, many of the characters and events do.

1980’s narrative is carried by veteran officer Peter Hunter (Paddy Considine), who had headed the Karachi Club shootout investigation years back and is brought from Manchester to lead a covert operation assigned to solve the “Ripper” murders and one possible copycat killing. Tough guys Douglas and Craven again are wild cards in the conspiracy, and the capture of the Ripper reveals that Clare’s murder remains an open case.

1983 revisits much that happened since 1974, but also clarifies the high-level conspiracy that perverted justice in Leeds. Here, Morrissey’s Detective Jobson embodies the film’s theme of redemption. As he navigates a sea of clues, he confronts his own culpability and becomes instrumental in the salvation of one child.