Well, that's definitely a memorable way go get "That's Amore" into your movie.
For all the rage and fury and gang rule (this is almost like a less rapey Clockwork Orange with the structure if not the cover of it being about "Sports teams"), and that the fact that I could expect to see various Football hooligans anyway if I were to go to the working class UK and that the violence here is merely a slightly more extreme version here, this becomes most alive and interesting because of the scenes of domestic life for this Bexby bloke. What's he like when he comes home after he riles up his group of badgers high on a million pints and p and vinegar? Well, he comes home to a younger than we may be used to Lesly Manville and who we see at first is to say the least attracted to him on a lust level (and he with her) and that he cares for the kid and can almost be believable at playing the calm man of the house... but not for long, and not that this means he is automatically a sympathetic creature.
That would be the tact of a less assured filmmaker, to soften him up for the audience; Alan Clarke means to present this family home that Bexby has made as completely tenuous and ready to crack at the worst moment, and that break comes about halfway through in a (charitably put) awful mistake in judgment, and it leads to a total breakdown of what's been between this man and woman and their child. Him having a kid is just a matter of fact thing to witness, and that when he has to settle down and be 'Normal' he can't, and if anything brings his street shit home in the most unfortunate ways. He only knows how to operate through violence and abuse, and eventually he takes it all out on his own organization. It doesn't mean this is an exactly unique representation of a ruthless (and racist) gang, but it is honest about the nature of the violence - Clarke isn't showing it to be exploitative, despite what the stedicam and fast editing might suggest.
It certainly more than helps Gary Oldman and Manville are exceptional at playing blistering and tragic and hurtful and hurt with each other. Oldman in particular is so Prime Cut and on fire that you wouldn't be off your meds to think he might reach through the TV set and give you a smash or slash with his knife or what have you if not careful. But why it isn't simply a one dimensional portrait of excessive manic masculine brutality are those moments early on where he tries to justify himself to his group and others. Those (to paraphrase another iconic Oldman violence merchant) quiet/calm little moments before the storm are also what make this a little more complex. My other last impression is I've now seen two Clarke films, and as slim volumes as they are they acutely and with a terrific, palpable cinematic energy about what they're about and will dig in to more of his ouevre.
They could all just, I dunno .. enjoy the game.
For all the rage and fury and gang rule (this is almost like a less rapey Clockwork Orange with the structure if not the cover of it being about "Sports teams"), and that the fact that I could expect to see various Football hooligans anyway if I were to go to the working class UK and that the violence here is merely a slightly more extreme version here, this becomes most alive and interesting because of the scenes of domestic life for this Bexby bloke. What's he like when he comes home after he riles up his group of badgers high on a million pints and p and vinegar? Well, he comes home to a younger than we may be used to Lesly Manville and who we see at first is to say the least attracted to him on a lust level (and he with her) and that he cares for the kid and can almost be believable at playing the calm man of the house... but not for long, and not that this means he is automatically a sympathetic creature.
That would be the tact of a less assured filmmaker, to soften him up for the audience; Alan Clarke means to present this family home that Bexby has made as completely tenuous and ready to crack at the worst moment, and that break comes about halfway through in a (charitably put) awful mistake in judgment, and it leads to a total breakdown of what's been between this man and woman and their child. Him having a kid is just a matter of fact thing to witness, and that when he has to settle down and be 'Normal' he can't, and if anything brings his street shit home in the most unfortunate ways. He only knows how to operate through violence and abuse, and eventually he takes it all out on his own organization. It doesn't mean this is an exactly unique representation of a ruthless (and racist) gang, but it is honest about the nature of the violence - Clarke isn't showing it to be exploitative, despite what the stedicam and fast editing might suggest.
It certainly more than helps Gary Oldman and Manville are exceptional at playing blistering and tragic and hurtful and hurt with each other. Oldman in particular is so Prime Cut and on fire that you wouldn't be off your meds to think he might reach through the TV set and give you a smash or slash with his knife or what have you if not careful. But why it isn't simply a one dimensional portrait of excessive manic masculine brutality are those moments early on where he tries to justify himself to his group and others. Those (to paraphrase another iconic Oldman violence merchant) quiet/calm little moments before the storm are also what make this a little more complex. My other last impression is I've now seen two Clarke films, and as slim volumes as they are they acutely and with a terrific, palpable cinematic energy about what they're about and will dig in to more of his ouevre.
They could all just, I dunno .. enjoy the game.