By Winnie Wang

Amidst stark plains and interiors in rural Missouri, 18-year-old Haas (Hannah Schiller) is faced with an uncertain future after the sudden death of her father Al, an outcast burdened with debt and dubious plans to flip properties along the Mississippi River. Alone with a house pending foreclosure, her most pressing concern is travelling to Illinois to execute his will, which outlines his wishes to be laid to rest in his place of birth. While waiting for weather conditions to improve for the burial, she finds refuge in a cheap inn and a friendship with Will, a young man from Wyoming who offers her a bicycle ride to escape the heavy rain. In the short days that it takes for the gravesite to dry, the pair exchange stories about their origins, recall lyrics to a country gospel song and caw at migrating birds.

When its characters aren’t journeying on interminable trails or seated in wheat fields, Runner confines them within door frames and windows, cloaks them in shadows, and isolates them through other formal means, bringing to mind the paintings of Edward Hopper. Despite the solitude that permeates each setting, Haas and Will manage to locate fleeting moments of connection as people who left home to fulfill familial obligations. Director Marian Mathias avoids forging any coming-of-age revelations, instead seeking to capture subtle shifts in her stoic protagonist through determined gestures as she completes household chores and hums Hank Williams’ “I Saw the Light” to herself. Minimal in dialogue and action, Runner feels bare at times, but mostly Mathias’ debut feature satisfies as a passing exploration of precarity, love, and loss.