Nicolas Winding Refn has personally invariably proved to be a hit-and-miss director. As far as his imagination rarely falters, the overall concept ranges from drab to enticing, whilst the content takes a back-seat to style. Here Refn seems intent on borrowing from the best to bring about his own amalgamate. "Bleeder" starts off with a pacey intro reminiscent of Guy Ritchie type character introduction - here Refn introduces us by presenting the shoes of our protagonists strolling down the street - featuring pulsating techno music for the chaps and more romantic drivel for the women.
From then on setting is formed, which seems like a poor man's "The Clerks" - not a reference to money given Kevin Smith debut feature was a no-budget flick, but to the fact that "Bleeder" consists of fickle, impoverished diatribes about films, which take place in a labyrinth video rental, in which one of the character Lenny (Mads Mikkelsen) works. The senseless poorly drafted cinephile bickering thankfully doesn't survive the duration, slowly sifting into darker territory and focusing attention on key protagonist Leo (Kim Bodnia), who leads a worn existence, working at a dead-end job, now further distraught by the news that his wife Loiuse (Rikke Louise Andersson) is pregnant. When Leo starts falling into his self-made trap, he slowly starts exposing his anger outward, slowly but surely going raging Scorsese - buying a gun and beating on his wife. The most striking homage naturally directs us at Kubrick's "A Clockwork Orange".
Once this sequence starts dominating the picture, the subplot, which at one time seemed like equally relevant disappears, casting doubt into the whole plot construction. Refn seems to utilise the other characters as other examples of self-made traps. Whilst Leo is struggling with his invisible leash, where his manhood pride is striped and replaced with a domestic collar, his best mate Lenny remains engulfed by the world of film, unable even to reach out and entertain a relationship with Lea (Liv Corfixen), a waitress, who he quietly admires from afar. Interestingly Lenny, lost in his towering shelves of movies, seems the perfect fit for Lea, who conversely drops into boundless tomes of books. Neither Leo nor Lenny seem capable of escaping their prisons, instead bleeding away their lives - Leo doing so literally.
Refn reuses the same actors from the now cult classic "Pusher", mostly to good effect. However, he fails to offer the same well-strung narrative, instead delivering an poorly written talkative opening hour, that dissipates interest in the more dynamic - and somewhat shockingly out-of-place - denouement. Refn also wields his weapons heavy-handedly, first having us engage with the main character Leo, only to swiftly punch us in the bowels once he recoils back at his dreary reality. Not the first time it has been done, but the lazy start further alienates the viewers, therefore effectively waking someone up, not shocking the systems.
From a personal angle the issues of stolen masculinity, which were pushed to the forefront by the director, were ill-received ailings of a thankfully (hopefully?) bygone era.
From then on setting is formed, which seems like a poor man's "The Clerks" - not a reference to money given Kevin Smith debut feature was a no-budget flick, but to the fact that "Bleeder" consists of fickle, impoverished diatribes about films, which take place in a labyrinth video rental, in which one of the character Lenny (Mads Mikkelsen) works. The senseless poorly drafted cinephile bickering thankfully doesn't survive the duration, slowly sifting into darker territory and focusing attention on key protagonist Leo (Kim Bodnia), who leads a worn existence, working at a dead-end job, now further distraught by the news that his wife Loiuse (Rikke Louise Andersson) is pregnant. When Leo starts falling into his self-made trap, he slowly starts exposing his anger outward, slowly but surely going raging Scorsese - buying a gun and beating on his wife. The most striking homage naturally directs us at Kubrick's "A Clockwork Orange".
Once this sequence starts dominating the picture, the subplot, which at one time seemed like equally relevant disappears, casting doubt into the whole plot construction. Refn seems to utilise the other characters as other examples of self-made traps. Whilst Leo is struggling with his invisible leash, where his manhood pride is striped and replaced with a domestic collar, his best mate Lenny remains engulfed by the world of film, unable even to reach out and entertain a relationship with Lea (Liv Corfixen), a waitress, who he quietly admires from afar. Interestingly Lenny, lost in his towering shelves of movies, seems the perfect fit for Lea, who conversely drops into boundless tomes of books. Neither Leo nor Lenny seem capable of escaping their prisons, instead bleeding away their lives - Leo doing so literally.
Refn reuses the same actors from the now cult classic "Pusher", mostly to good effect. However, he fails to offer the same well-strung narrative, instead delivering an poorly written talkative opening hour, that dissipates interest in the more dynamic - and somewhat shockingly out-of-place - denouement. Refn also wields his weapons heavy-handedly, first having us engage with the main character Leo, only to swiftly punch us in the bowels once he recoils back at his dreary reality. Not the first time it has been done, but the lazy start further alienates the viewers, therefore effectively waking someone up, not shocking the systems.
From a personal angle the issues of stolen masculinity, which were pushed to the forefront by the director, were ill-received ailings of a thankfully (hopefully?) bygone era.