Entertainment

Deep secrets buried amid shallow graves

You can’t trust nobody — not the police, the clergy, the rich nor, of course, the lawyers.

That is the overriding message of “Red Riding Trilogy,” three films about the Yorkshire Ripper, who terrorized northwest England in the 1970s and ’80s.

The films are based on four novels by David Peace published from 1999 to 2002. Each film has its own director, although they share cast members.

In Julian Jarrold’s “Red Riding: 1974” (the slowest of the trilogy), a stud newspaper reporter (Andrew Garfield) sets out to solve the disappearance of several young girls. Instead, he finds a willing blonde and brutal, widespread corruption.

In James Marsh’s “Red Riding: 1980,” a cop (Paddy Considine) is brought in from the outside to help the local force, which can’t seem to find the nut job who offed 13 adult women over half a decade.

Finally, in Anand Tucker’s flashback-laden “Red Riding: 1983” (the weakest of the bunch), another schoolgirl goes missing.

Police might think the killer from 1980 is still out and about, except that a young man is in the slammer after confessing to the 1980 crimes. A right bloody mess, indeed.

The Yorkshire chamber of commerce isn’t likely to hype these films, which picture their community as a polluted, Third World hellhole whose slimy citizens proudly toast: “To the north, where we do what we want.” And do they ever!

Direction of all three films is no more than workmanlike, which isn’t surprising since they were originally made for British television.

The acting, on the other hand, is sometimes superb. Standouts include Garfield, as the unfortunate reporter; Sean Bean, as a perverted developer; and Rebecca Hall, as the secret-hiding mother of one of the victims.

The trilogy opens today on the big screen at the IFC Center and on IFC Films’ video on demand. I suggest you watch it at home, so you will be closer to the toilet when the killer gives cops the sickening details of one particular murder.

vam@nypost.com