Hey folks, Harry here with a report from the Pardoner on... the other Joan Allen film of the fest... WHEN THE SKY FALLS... Now on her other film... THE CONTENDER... words been being spread that she out to come out with a nom for a little golden savalas, but we'll have to wait and see.... But it looks as if she's good to go in this film as well.... So lean back and press the down key to see what the Pardoner has to say....
Cheers to Harry and his mincing minions from the gleeful Pardoner.
I have just come back from the North American premiere of "When The Sky Falls", a film on which I am a bit conflicted.
I was lined up in plenty of time to nab a rush ticket, but some kindly old woman sold me her ticket. The sweet old thing even gave me change from a $20, refusing even a little gratuity. That, in a scene, is how to spot a Canadian in the wild. This got me out of the usual chill and unusual downpour, and soon I was nestled in a perfectly central seat, flanked by more friendly strangers.
The director (John MacKenzie) could not attend the screening for reasons unspecified, but Nigel Greeen (producer) gave a short speech. This was what started the conflict: I had intentionally given myself no background info on this film, knowing nothing of character, story, or anything except the very positive buzzings of a little fly on my bread. The man stood before us and talked, very briefly, about two things.
The first was the difficulty they had encountered in funding the film. Because of the harsh light in which it placed the Irish justice system, particularly that of Dublin, a great many people did not want the film made. Further, those who might have financed it simply did not believe that the described events things could and did happen in Ireland. Assuredly, Green said, they have and do and will. For three years, they searched, until Sky TV gave them, as he called it, "seed money". Everyone involved deferred vast amounts, and in some cases all of their fees in order to finance the film's completion.
The second was why they had so long laboured for this particular piece of work. The film is based on the actual accounts of a journalist named Veronica Guerin. This woman had, in the course of her work, come across a pit of drug-filled rankness in Dublin. She was harassed, beaten, crippled, and never once did she find recourse through the law. She eventually collaborated with the filmmakers in order to tell her story, coming on board as consultant. In 1996, just before production began, she was murdered.
As a nearly direct result of her death, Irish law was changed. Green spoke fervently of "criminals brought to account for their estates, under a just presumption of guilt." These changes are, as you can imagine, extremely controversial. The film itself, he said, is an argument for these changes, which are as necessary as the telling of Veronica Guerin's story.
On with the film.
The acting was of a consistently high quality. Joan Allen was given a terribly difficult assignment to play out as the lead. The things her character does would seem insane, if one was not so convinced of her personal and professional committment. Patrick Bergan reeks of frustration as Mackey, the cop with whom she spends much of the movie. Gerald Flynn's Hackett (the criminal leader at the centre of the plot) is suitably menacing and contemptible. The best performance comes from Gavin Kielty as Tattoo, Hackett's errand boy. He is the perfect street hood; smugly predatory in his sexuality, vicious at a moment's whim, and without a scruple to piss on. I loved the little bugger.
The only things in and of the film that bothered me were a tendency toward melodrama (forgiveable), the reckless abuse of a cute kid ("Is mommy with god now?" - shudder), and a generally small-screen feel. All told, these were offset by an occasional flair for horrific visuals (as in the scene where Tattoo beats an informant to death with a bathroom sink, which collapses to the floor and into the softened skull of the victim), and the genuinely well-crafted story.
What bothered me was the audiences reaction.
Throughout the movie, people were laughing. Initially, there were a few clever and light scenes, to create the world for the criminals to break. As the film went on, so did the laughter. I was stunned to find myself laughing too. This was a film whose subject was deadly serious: the abundance of criminality in cultures, and the inability of legal systems to deal with them. People were laughing at malice, treating insight like wit, and generally mocking the efforts of the filmmakers. It was as if the producer had never spoken, and we were watching some feeble variant of "Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels" with a nasty twist at the end.
Are we, the film geeks of the world, so mindlessly attuned to the humour in violence that we can see none of its horror? So bent by sly words that we can't distinguish dramatic irony from comic? This really bothers me. That's what I get for not reckking mine owne rede.
Hopefully, I'll be able to luck into a ticket for "Endgame" on Saturday, since I've as much chance of getting into "How to Kill Your Neighbour's Dog" as actually getting rid of the damn thing.
Radix malorum est cupiditas.
The Pardoner
