Meet Matthew Cooke, a Stranger reader who has vowed to do everything The Stranger suggests for the entire month of February. Look for his reports daily on Slog and Line Out. —Eds.
Uh-oh… another Mudede movie pick.
The last time this happened, I ended up at a slumber party otherwise known as Police, Adjective. Would I need to wear my jammies to the theater for 44 Inch Chest?
But then I read Charles’ description and discovered the film shares the same screen writers as Sexy Beast, a movie that is, in my view, unassailably great. And it also has John Hurt, another favorite of mine. Perhaps this would work out. I confidently left my PJs at home and made my way down to the Varsity.
Though I was in no danger of falling asleep, I remain at odds with Mr. Mudede’s recommendation. Most of the film takes place in one room, where we are asked to both laugh at and sympathize with a distraught, vicious mobster (Ray Winstone) whose wife is leaving him for another man. Winstone is a terrific actor, but his character’s endless self-analysis is so childish and casually cruel, it was hard for me to care about his plight.
The film is chock full of great actors, and the sheer craft and charisma of the performers is fun to watch. But way too often, the movie is oppressively static and inert, almost stagebound; when I came home, I double-checked that it wasn’t adapted from a play. The cast members tear into their lines with relentless venom, but I rarely believed anything they said.
The language is indeed profane, a steaming pile of “cunt” this and “fuck” that. Hurt has the most success with it, keeping his face in a constant bilious scowl and pronouncing every terrible word as if forcibly extracting it from his bowels. But even he is defeated by the claustrophobic staging, and a great many would-be belly laughs become, at best, half-hearted chuckles.
Sorry Charles. I love ya, but I can’t get behind this mess of a movie. I promise not to pre-judge any of your future picks, but for the record, I like horror films. Maybe you can send me to Shutter Island next week? Just an idea (also, try not to send me to a movie the night after seeing Wings of Desire; that’s a tough act to follow).
Good review mathew! charles usually has good reviews and i am forever greatful to him for turning me on to killer of sheep and i loved sexy beast as well, but this movie was a vapid mess, and the dream sequences were a bit of a cliche. i wanted him to kill the french guy so as to get something going, to keep me from falling asleep. it was a let down when he lets him walk at the end, not because it was an unrealistc ending but because it was unsatisfying flick. youre right it felt like a play or a movie by a film student from vancouver. i too love ray winstone, but if u want to see him at his enraged best than i recomend neil by mouth, a truly great and gritty english film.
“Nil By Mouth”, SeMe. But yeah, great stuff.
You’ve really hit your stride with these last few reviews. Thanks for enabling those of us stuck at home to vicariously experience a little Seattle night life.
I love the word “bilious.”
Mathew, I wish I had seen your review instead of Mr Mudede’s. I must admit I was excited about the film based on the cast, genre, and writers (Sexy Beast) but in these lean times I avoid laying out $20 for my partner and I to go to a theatre unless it’s a “must see”. Unfortunately for me the only review I read was Mudede’s, and that was what persuaded me to pay full price.
Let’s be honest, it was a pretty bad film.
I’ve met Mr. Mudede… seems like a nice bloke, but I will not read another of his movie reviews.