Home Is The Darkness

I don't know why but for some reason I'm drawn to the darker side of life. The nicer and more pleasant a thing is, the more I seem to subconsciously rebel against it. I recently bought Animal Crossing: New Leaf on the 3DS in which friendly, furry little creatures skip about making pleasant conversations and doing each other favours. Within a week of making me their new mayor however I'd fucked it all up for them. I swapped their town flag for a swastika, put them all under house arrest and succeeded in turning an initially chipper squirrel into one depressingly suicidal motherfucker. I know the drippy hippies strive for peace and love but I have to say that I much more comfortably subscribe to director Werner Herzog's view that, “the common denominator of the Universe is not harmony, but chaos, hostility and murder”. I dunno... maybe I have trust issues and think that anybody who’s overly friendly is actually secretly hiding their more sinister intentions. At least when a person’s twattery is up front you can more accurately gauge where you stand with them.

When I was about fifteen years old I saw Danny Boyle's 1996 masterpiece Trainspotting for the first time which resulted in the Scanners style explosion of my mind. His film depicted the shit stained lows that society can sink to but didn't skimp on the humour, energy, love or empathy for it's naïve main characters. There's no denying that drug addiction is a cunts game but that's not to say it's without at least some initial appeal and the hinted-towards-optimism that's flirted with by the film’s conclusion therefore felt more real because the rest of the story felt so honest as well. Yes it depicted drugs as being a destructive needle-roulette of misery but it also showed the seductive short term peace that they can offer from the stresses of an otherwise fucked up world. I love Trainspotting for so many reasons but I think the ultimate one is probably its ability to find acceptance and humour as a defence against the misery and pain of being alive. As well as Herzog I suppose in that respect I also agree with Watchmen's The Comedian whose existential depression leads him to the conclusion that, “It's a joke. It's all a fucking joke”.

Rather than just being my favourite film however, Irvine Welsh's Trainspotting is also my favourite novel. Admittedly it is also one of the few books that I've read that doesn't feature the magical exploits of an orphaned dullard whose fame is a result of the shoddy Zorro scar on his forehead but still... I'm sure you can therefore imagine my excitement when I heard about the new film, Filth. Like Trainspotting, this is based on another unrelentingly bleak book by Irvine Welsh and was enjoying the best reviews that an adaptation of his has garnered since my favourite film was shat into cinemas. As you'd expect and hope from its source material, Filth examines the hushed-up guttural nature of our society and as such was made for a very small budget. As a result it has so far had a comparatively limited marketing campaign due to the bastard cash men being too pussy to push a film that dares to embrace its own shitty attitude. Filth does not want to attract the broadest possible audience but would instead prefer to earn itself a cult following after pissing all over the sensitivities of the uptight mainstream dullards. Within the first twelve seconds its trailer describes it as “Sick, Twisted, Sexy, Depraved, Bizarre, Warped, Dirty, Wild, Dark, Shocking, Weird, Obscene, Controversial, Psychotic, Kinky, Outrageous, Offensive, Disgusting and Insane”. For once this was a trailer that didn't lie. Filth was fucking amazing.

McAvey ready for his fucking close-up.

The film begins in what looks like a post-apocalyptic, dystopia that really just happens to be a modern day Edinburgh as a lone Japanese student is brutally killed by a demented gang of bleach-blonde twats. Subsequently tasked with solving this murder is Detective Sergeant Bruce Robertson who is played by a fatter, rotten looking James McAvoy. Not only does he have the morals of a sewer cunt but his pink bloated face also hints towards the loving embrace of a dedicated substance addiction. As the story progresses though, the initial crime that sparks this story really slips into the background with the film naturally being more interested in Robertson’s free-fall into the dark arsehole of evil and madness. This may well be the performance of McAvoy's career as he vomits (an ability he can control at will) and fucks his way about town only stopping occasionally to spit out his racist, sexist and homophobic bile. Imagine the original Bad Lieutenant but with more humour and less of Harvey Keitel's manky dick and that's kind of what Filth is. With The Last King of Scotland, Welcome To The Punch and Trance, McAvoy has been hinting towards his more sinister side for years and so really makes the effort here to impress, by playing the pig in shit.

It's interesting I think that as a country, Britain is kind of renowned for spewing out films that show how grim life is. However, usually they tend to be kitchen sink dramas like Vera Drake that depict the difficulties of starting up a back alley abortion clinic with nothing more than a kind heart and a rusted coat-hanger. Don't get me wrong, I think that people like Mike Leigh and Ken Loach are great directors but when it comes to how fucked up everything is, I prefer this alternate approach. If either of those two had made Filth it would instead probably focus on Robertson's best friend played by Eddie Marsan who is constantly being bullied by him. The difference between the usual grimness that we release and this is that they tend to show good people suffering at the hands of evil… this however more enjoyably shows the fun evil can have by punching the good in the face and then fucking its wife.

The other difference between this and the kitchen sink stuff is that this in no way indulges in gritty socio-realism. Through Robertson's descent into madness, we're treated to a talking tapeworm, screaming Nazis and a hallucinated psychiatrist with a massive fuck-off head. If I was to nitpick, I'd say it's kind of a shame that the film is quite so apparently inspired by Kubrick but that's only because so many others have been too. When dealing with anarchic main characters it seems kind of clichéd now to borrow from A Clockwork Orange when Filth clearly owes films such as Bronson and even Trainspotting a huge debt. Beyond the cheeky combination of humour and sociopathic violence, the film also starts with a glaring red title screen and makes constant use of classical music. There's also several fantasy sequences that take place in a room that could only be more Kubrickian if it had a splintered door and caused Shelley Duvall to have a breakdown. This influence is admittedly still acknowledged by the regular appearance of a 2001 poster and I am really being pedantic by pointing this out as an issue. This is still a complete original as can be seen by the bat-shit mental cameo from David Soul when the film temporarily and brilliantly becomes a fucking musical.

Speaking of music, the score here is absolutely phenomenal with composer Clint Mansell continuing to prove his genius. It seems odd at first that someone like him would do a small budget film like Filth but thinking about it, the fucked up material really fits his style. As can be seen from Requiem For A Dream and Black Swan, his scores not only strengthen when reflecting the madness on screen but also manages to kick the shit out of your emotions too. This is also very much the case here with the music even going someway to helping a 'what-the-fuck' concluding twist fluently achieve its cinematic goal. I won't give it away except to say that there's a revelation near the end that I completely bought which was partly thanks to how wrapped up I was in the intensity of Mansell's work. I should say that I know bugger all about music but because I'm a geek, the only shit that I listen to that isn't Morrissey tends to be film scores- with Mansell being a firm favourite. If I'm dicking about on the computer or need something to block out the irritating sound of somebody talking to me, then the score for Moon and The Fountain have been very useful in the past. I think that the next time that I want to relax to the twisted sound of a particular reality being fucked up beyond recognition, then the music of Filth will definitely be my first calling.

Scotland wishes you a very merry Shitmas.

So yeah- the film was amazing and you should definitely see it if you haven't already. Like I said, it's getting great reviews with the biggest criticism being that it is too unrelentingly dark. Although as I think I've explained, the darkness is where I feel most at home and so that really wasn't a problem for me. In fact I kind of felt like at the very end (mood-spoiler) it dropped the ball slightly by suggesting a chance of redemption for a character that I really didn't feel deserved it. McAvoy might not have made his sluggy bastard particularly sympathetic but with his blood shot eyes and constant hissing of abuse, he was always watchable. In fact, with all the spitting of his booze drenched slobber and the projectile nature of his pungent green vomit, I'm surprised they didn't try and fuck a little more cash out of me and make this film 3D. Actually speaking of which, the film actually takes place at Christmas which is a time of year that I particularly fucking hate. However, and I'm not just saying this, but there's a scene in which Shakin’ Steven's Merry Christmas Everyone plays on the soundtrack as a hungover Robertson pukes his guts up that actually made me feel quite festive. As anybody who knows me and my “hum-bugger off” ways will be able to attest to this may be this fucked up film’s greatest achievement.

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Do Fish Have Dreams?

Nicholas Cage is an actor of extremes. Boringly there are his 'done it for the money' films such as National Treasure, in which he plays an adventurer so dull that the story is simply a quest for his own charisma, but then on the other hand he's also done stuff like Wild at Heart and Raising Arizona which are excitingly the performances of a shameless mental. These are the ones in which you assume that before arriving on set, he must have suffered an extreme blow to the head or had some unknown class-A drug injected straight into his spine. I guess a recent example of a role in which he's obviously fucking nuts would be Kick-Ass. In that film he played a retarded version of Batman who likes to shoot guns at his daughter and then reward her with a birthday knife. He also decided to perform the role whilst speaking with a voice that Adam West might have if he had a stroke and then started haemorrhaging brain-fluid out of his ears.

Whenever I see Cash-in-Cage I just want to walk the horse-faced dullard straight to the glue factory to put him out of my misery. When he forgets to medicate however, Deranged-Cage is one of the most interesting, unpredictable and brilliant actors currently allowed to work. It was therefore with some excitement that I decided to watch Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call - New Orleans.

The opening shot of the film is of a snake as it swims through a severely flooded prison. Eventually it reaches a cell which contains a prisoner still locked in and struggling to stay above the surface.
I'm assuming something has gone seriously wrong and this wasn't his court ordered punishment. Drowning in a giant, shitty fish bowl is something that should only be reserved for the worst of people and this man doesn't look much like Josef Fritzl, The Yorkshire Ripper or Piers Morgan. 

Valerie used to be attractive before she became a fat man.

Luckily though, help is at hand as two of New Orleans’ finest walk in to presumably save the day. Unfortunately for the drowning wrong doer, they are a Crazy-Cage and everyone’s favourite, fat transsexual, Valerie Kilmer. Now it was my understanding that the police are contractually obliged to help people who are in trouble. It therefore seemed slightly against regulation when these two instead decide to just take bets on how long it will take the prisoner to drown. I suppose it's possible that they'd had a long shift so we probably shouldn't judge them too harshly for playing games to pass the time. Having said that though, Crazy-Cage has a change of heart and kindly decides to intervene. He jumps into the watery shit, saves the prisoner, injures himself and now has to live the rest of his life with agonising back pain. I suppose the message of this is that if anybody ever needs your help then you should tell them to go fuck themselves. That's what I've been doing since, anyway.

In a way, this opening scene perfectly encapsulates a lot of what is important about the rest of the film. The flooded prison is a result of hurricane Katrina, it has a twisted sense of morality and there is a crime witnessed by a reptile. For some reason the movie is littered with Crocodiles, lizards and snakes all silently watching us humans from the sidelines. Either I need to watch The Departed again or a judgemental alligator is an unconventional inclusion to the cop genre. In fact there's not much about this film that does conform to the traditional rules of a crime-thriller. Not unless one of those rules is to have the lead detective stoned off his tits and watching the soul of a dead man break dance across the room. If movies could shag, then this one would definitely be the bastard offspring of The French Connection and Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. That's also coincidentally exactly how good it is.

From this point on, the film tangents around several different strands of story: Cage begins investigating a mass-murder, raising money to solve his gambling debts and solving the escalating troubles of his girlfriend, Eva Mendes. All of which really just involve a self-medicated Cage drugged up to the eye balls, shouting, screaming and basically being hilarious. This might be a crime movie that looks at the lowest depth of evil that a person can sink to, but that doesn't mean it can't be fucking funny too. When Cage starts an interrogation of two innocent old ladies by hiding behind a door and shaving, you know this isn't going to be by the book. Cut to three seconds later and he's pulled out one’s oxygen tubes, is waving a gun at the other and getting angry at their long life, being the cause of America’s economic problems.

Human or spud? Either way, he's a useless fat vegetable.

Despite all this constant cuntish behaviour though, somehow Cage always seems fairly likeable. This is probably because things are also going very wrong for him and so in a way it's kind of hard not to sympathise. He might be violent, addicted to drugs and massively mental but at times he does seem genuinely vulnerable and capable of showing some heart. He worries about his Dad who is a recovering alcoholic and he does his best to look out for his girlfriend - having said that though, if my girlfriend was Eva Mendes then I too would probably be a little protective. I guess the only downside to her here is that despite being stupidly good-looking she also happens to be a whore. Not sure if I could actually go out with a prostitute but my gut instinct is certainly suggesting that I'm not above it. The point that I'm trying to make is that Cage's character is not that bad, he just keeps fucking up. A more apt title for the film would probably be The Unfortunate Lieutenant. Or at least it would be if that alternate title didn't make it sound like some crap, committee written comedy that would probably star Kevin James's fat potato of a head.

 

In actual fact a more apt title for this would just be Port of Call - New Orleans. The original Bad Lieutenant was released in 1992 and featured a guilt laden Harvey Keitel spending more time than I appreciated walking around with his old balls out. In that version he was tasked with solving your standard, everyday Nun rape case. The original was a catholic’s wet dream with lots of sin and lots of repentance. There might not have been too much plot but at least there was plenty to feel bad about. Beyond the fact that both Keitel and Cage's Lieutenants take drugs, have loose morals and look like famous actors, the two films are completely different. I can therefore only assume that the title was either a marketing tool or simply a way for director Werner Herzog to piss off the original’s creator Abel Ferrara. If so then I guess it was a mission success as Ferrara went on record to state, “As far as remakes go ... I wish these people die in Hell”. Although, when asked for a comment, I personally enjoyed Herzog's enjoyably dismissive response of, "I've never seen a film by him. I have no idea who he is." 

Here we see Herzog bonding with the cast.

Now it goes without saying that Herzog is a genius and one of the most interesting people working in film. He's a brilliant director and has made some of the most mental movies of all time. Back in 1982 he made the masterpiece Fitzcarraldo in which he took a film crew to the heart of the jungle and filmed them literally drag a boat up the side of a mountain. He's a man who is more than happy to go to the extremes to get the job done. In the same way that Cage is more than happy to risk making a tit of himself for a film, Herzog is more than willing to risk his life. In the past, Herzog's muse was the bat-shit lunatic Klaus Kinski and so in a way you have to wonder how it's taken so long for him and Cage to get together. Cage plays people who are just as mental but unlike Kinski, is unlikely to need a gun aimed at his head to keep him on set. Herzog once claimed to point a rifle at Kinski and state, “You leave this jungle now and you'll find eight bullets in you and the ninth one will be for me”. We can only live in hope that Michael Bay and a stubbornly rebellious Danny Dyer one day make the same deal...

It's been suggested that Bad Lieutenant is one of Herzog's less substantial films but I disagree.

Some of his most regular themes seem to be regarding the violence, chaos and madness of life. Let's not forget this is the man who made a penguin documentary in which he asked the expert, “Is there such thing as insanity among penguins?” Those three themes all seems present and here to me. They're encompassed in Cage’s character, the story and the landscape. What therefore surprises is how this movie about self-destruction ends up being such a feel good story.

I don't want to ruin the end of the film so I won't reveal what happens, but just because it's uplifting that doesn't mean it ends happily, instead it's more that everything before hand has been so grimly crap. People wrongly claim Mamma Mia to be a feel good film which for me just isn't true. To me a feel good film isn't one in which nice things happen for two hours but rather horrible things do with the odd ray of hope to bask in. Admittedly Mamma Mia does place us under constant threat from Pierce Brosnan's tuneless warbling, but really that's simply not enough, although having said that, his singing is still pretty fucking horrific. Despite all those crazy weapons that Q invented to help save the world, it turns out all Brosnan's Bond needed was some background music and a megaphone.

"Take a chance on me."

Anyway so the story development, dialogue, performance and music in the last scene of this Bad Lieutenant are all actually perfect. Seeing a minor positive in a junkie policeman’s life makes me feel more warm inside than hearing a slutty Margaret Thatcher belting out Abba's greatest hits. Again, I don't want to ruin the end but you can't help but wonder what the concluding moral is. It genuinely seems to be that a Hell of a lot of wrongs can make a right.

According to critics, this is Herzog's take on a mainstream movie. If that's the case then a lot of mainstream movies could do with following his lead. As far as I'm concerned, Cage too can do whatever the Hell he likes. If he wants to spend the majority of his time cashing in then fine, just so long as he brings out something as mad as this every couple of years too. It'd be nice to see the two work on something again in the future. Any director/actor pairings that can produce a crime-thriller in which the drugged up lead is distracted by the invisible lizards in his head can only be a good thing.

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