Taking a cue from Rod Serling: "Imagine if you will, you're a small time director of commercials. Somehow a film script by the same writing team that penned Sexy Beast comes across your radar. You pitch it and the studio says, 'sure, why not? Oh, and we've heard… More
Taking a cue from Rod Serling: "Imagine if you will, you're a small time director of commercials. Somehow a film script by the same writing team that penned Sexy Beast comes across your radar. You pitch it and the studio says, 'sure, why not? Oh, and we've heard that the star of Sexy Beast is interested in doing this film as well." Said heavyweight Brit star tells you that a couple of his buddies, also heavyweight Brit stars, are also interested. So there you are, a total newcomer into the feature film business - handed a hot script and a cadre of top actors... this could only happen in.... The Twilight Zone."
First time director Malcolm Venville was handed the reigns to 44 Inch Chest, and then given the assignment of directing such veteran actors as Ray Winstone, Ian McShane, Tom Wilkinson and John Hurt. I wonder if he ever yelled, "Cut! No, No, No, you've got it all wrong!" Not bloody likely - and that is part of the problem with the film (oh, there are many, unfortunately - overacting is only one of them).
The film starts well enough, with a wonderful opening scene slowly panning through a smashed up room while Nilsson croons his hit "Without You". You are then slowly introduced to the characters, all part of some east end gang of sorts - the kind of guys who don't take kindly to losing... at anything. Until the point where the thugs hole up in an old tenement building, the film has a certain swagger and interesting charm. But then the script rapidly goes sideways, becoming a poor man's Mamet, full of crass language and bluster, while filling in a back story of a man, as Venville pointed out several times in the post production interview, "brought to his knees by the betrayal of love".
Winstone, who I dearly admire, goes way over the top as the kneeler, almost to the point of farce. The script has him going quite insane, shown ham fistedly in a series of flashbacks and dream sequences that seem to come out of nowhere. All the while his cohorts keep on him to man up and get over it - while providing him the revenge vehicle to do so by kidnapping the man who cuckolded him. After over a half an hour of claustrophobic filming inside a single room, the crew then exits to the hallway (which is even more claustrophobic) so Winstone can get his revenge and then feel all better (or so they hope). The scenes of McShane, Wilkinson and Hurt, all huddling around the stairs in a tight hallway is simply patently absurd; as are the odd goings on inside the room with Winstone and the lothario. But it gets worse when the gang returns to the room and then Winstone's wife appears - making you wonder if this is yet another odd dream sequence - but no!
The scene with the weepy Winstone and his wife (in a straight forward performance by Joanne Whalley) is simply odd. You have already seen the confrontation and discourse between the two in flashback, so when they again confront each other in real life they simply have nothing to say to each other. I suppose that the script's intention is to show a thug with a heart who can't get past the fact that, in the end, he is a thug - probably the most cliché characterization in film. Being told that he has been replaced by another is a blow to his pride, which somehow gets mixed into some vague feeling of a broken heart, so Winstone has to alternate between the two - bluster, curse and threaten, and then weep for forgiveness and wail for another chance. Yikes, it was like watching some soap opera melodrama - something that should be far beneath the talents of the actors involved.
In the middle of all this you have Wilkinson playing the ageing voice of reason - a thug who still lives with his mum - the kindly sort who sees both sides of every story and therefore acts as a kind of moral compass... an oddity considering that the group intends for Winstone to kill his wife's lover - but regardless, Wilkinson plays this kind of vulnerable humane part very well. He is in direct contrast to Hurt who plays a blustering man who is bitter about growing old. He talks a good game, but the group knows he is way past being able to back it up. Still, it is a joy watching Hurt spit out the curse words as he rails against weakness.
In between these extremes you have the suave homosexual as portrayed by McShane. One of the best parts of the film is a simple vignette that involves McShane gambling and taking advantage of some drunken rich guy... this has nothing whatsoever to do with the story, but is a joy to watch just the same. McShane fills the screen with an easy confidence and can express volumes by the raise of an eyebrow. You get the sense that he is a bit world weary, especially in witnessing the mess that Winstone created, but still seems to be holding out hope for something electric to come along and surprise him. Sadly the film isn't really about him, so all the potential goes unfulfilled. What you get instead is quasi and weak Tarantino, with extreme close-ups of Winstone not doing much of anything - as if in a state of shock - probably mimicking the audiences' reaction to the clumsy handling of a film which doesn't really say much of anything in the end, nor really resolve itself. Perhaps one might assume that the gang ultimately loses faith in their "strong man", and that he is now and forever will be adrift - but then again I might be reading more into the story than what is intended.
