Thursday 4 March 2010
44" Chest
I came out of this believing it is definitely number one in the rankings so far for, to use the film's own language, the Borderlines Crock of S-i-e 2010 award. But this morning I have calmed down. We can all chuckle and titter like naughty boys and girls at scatology reminiscent of Gilbert and George in their turd period, but does it add up to anything? Other than a C of S? As for the performances, definitely award winning stuff at the Ham School of Acting final year shows. And most of it seemed to be a reprise of performances in other films, now tarnished with over use. Whatever happened to the Stately Homo of England? Someone please write JH a part worth playing. That's two bad 'uns in one festival. If the film was saved by anything it was its tantalising beginning, before any actor turned up on screen, and the performances by the dog and the waiter. Both deserve an Oscar or BAFTA just for putting up with it all. The blessed release from brown noise during the conversion from violence to forgiveness made that scene the best, with its almost pieta quality. But it only just beat the dog. Then to cap it all the whole sorry business ended with a camera move straight out of the BBC crane department. When will these people ever learn? But as I say, I am now calmer. I am no longer shouting obscenities at the night sky.
Labels:
44 Inch Chest,
review
1 comment:
I had no desire to see this (back in October at London Film Festival) but a ticket was thrust into my hands. And expecting Lock, Stock style and content, I was pleasantly surprised. I relished the hamminess, the OTT East End gangland self-parody and the way it turned inside out. There was something cathartic about it. But you may appreciate this review. I did.
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