Movie Review: Bronson

Tom Hardy as Michael "Bronson" Peterson

Bronson (2008)
Directed by: Nicolas Winding Refn
Starring: Tom Hardy

"You don't want to be trapped inside with me, sunshine ...I am Charlie Bronson. I am Britain's most violent prisoner."

Dutch director Nicolas Winding Refn had a breakout year in 2011 with the cult success of Drive, his high-octane and stylish ode to violence. However, where Ryan Gosling's "Driver" was a silent brooder, the central figure in Refn's 2008 film, Bronson, vividly narrates his own exploits in increasingly bizarre fantasy sequences -- the star of his own show, where he's an artist and a hero to the downtrodden who responds to a roaring crowd only he can hear.

Loosely based on a true story, the film opens in 1974 just as a young hooligan by the name of Michael Peterson (Tom Hardy) is sentenced to seven years in prison for robbing a post office -- a jail term that ultimately turned into a 34-year stint after he committed countless other crimes (including murder) while incarcerated. Peterson achieved tabloid notoriety throughout the United Kingdom -- often referred to as "Her Majesty's longest-serving criminal." While behind bars, Peterson conceived his alter ego, Charlie Bronson -- snagging the name from the prickly American movie star. As "Bronson", Peterson retreated further and further into his wild fantasies as he was chartered back and forth between prison and a mental health asylum. There is no cure for his violent nature -- it's embedded in his DNA.

Bronson is a bizarre film whose success rests solely on the appeal of its star -- in this case, the rapidly rising up-and-comer, Hardy. In a film that is essentially devoid of any secondary characters (it's all Bronson, all the time), Hardy excels. With his intense glare and darkly comic one-liners, he's both frightening and hilarious. He portrays Bronson as a man so consumed by his anger that he gives no real reason or motive for his actions -- he simply is the way that he is and he makes no apology for it. It's impossible to pinpoint where his anger comes from considering he comes from a stable home with supportive parents. As he declares in one scene, "there was nuffin' wonky about my upbringing." His feral, animalistic nature propels him into numerous misguided fights against authority -- or is it all just anarchy for anarchy's sake? Even after being beaten into submission by prison guards and heavily sedated by asylum nurses, Bronson's inner beast refuses to be subdued. Like Alex DeLarge, the antihero of Stanley Kubrick's A Clockwork Orange, Bronson is a lost soul rebelling against all that he confronts. You'd be hard-pressed to envision a better actor in the role -- having Hardy in the film was a casting coup and he's absolutely mesmerizing.

Hardy as "Bronson"

It would be easy to dismiss Bronson as emotionally empty; a film that chooses to glorify violence without delving deeper into the subject matter at hand. I'll admit that this sense of detachment and underwritten characters are two of the things I struggled with while watching both Bronson and Drive. However, amid all the violent sequences lies an interesting commentary that is, unfortunately, not fully explored: Is violence art? In some strange way, is Bronson expressing himself -- his inner torments -- through bouts of rage and destruction? He approaches the prospect of a fight with a welcoming smile, fists at the ready. He meticulously prepares for battle if he senses it coming -- preferring to fight completely in the nude, his body greased. He even holds off a slew of prison guards in order to finish painting (literally) one of his victims. When a fight is over, it's as though he's completed yet another masterpiece.

Refn's films carry a distinct style that borrows from other directors, yet still manages to feel completely original, almost operatic -- think Quentin Tarantino. Bronson is part black comedy, part psychedelic biography with shades of A Clockwork Orange, Requiem for a Dream and the sheer insanity of Natural Born Killers. His 80s-laden soundtrack only adds to the ludicrousness of the events unfolding on the screen.

However, if one were to take away the jaw-dropping and magnetic performance of Hardy, Bronson amounts to very little. Told through the eyes of Bronson, we understand that he's an unreliable narrator -- a violent being with a maniacal cackle. Yet, we are left wondering why we should care? Lets just be grateful that Refn let Hardy have free rein with the picture.

FINAL GRADE: B

TIFF Film Review: Drive

Drive (2011)
Directed By: Nicolas Winding Refn
Based on the Book By: James Sallis
Starring: Ryan Gosling, Albert Brooks, Carey Mulligan, Bryan Cranston and Ron Perlman

Director Nicolas Winding Refn really loves John Hughes movies -- he just wants you to know that.

The Dutch director of Drive, touted as one of the must-see movies at this years Toronto International Film Festival, claimed he was very heavily inspired by both the late-director and 80s movies, in general.

With its 80s-influenced soundtrack and bright pink title credits, Drive has a certain Hughes feel to it -- only imagine Hughes' angst-ridden teen characters going on a violent rampage and brutally murdering each and every one of their high school tormenters in an increasingly violent (and creative) manner. In a recent interview about the film, both Rehn and star Ryan Gosling said they were influenced, in particular, by Pretty in Pink (1986).

"One thing we both agreed on was that we loved 'Pretty in Pink' and that it would have been a masterpiece if it was more violent," Gosling said. "In some ways we tried to make a violent John Hughes movie."

Rehn and Gosling brought up that same idea once again last night during the Q&A session at the North American premiere of the film at the Ryerson University Theatre. So, go into the movie envisioning a really evil, fed-up Duckie from Pretty in Pink and just take it all in.

A Hollywood stunt driver by day, a getaway driver by night, the man known only as Driver (Gosling) discovers that he's a target after a heist gone wrong. With baddies Bernie Rose (Albert Brooks) and Nino (Ron Perlman) hot on his tail, Driver rips and roars through the streets of L.A. while simultaneously trying to romance a young mother (Carey Mulligan) who is, at first, completely unaware of his darker side.

What Drive lacks in character development and plot, it more than makes up for in style. It's essentially a blood-soaked homage to both B-movie Hollywood flicks and European art house fare. Graphic violence is around every corner, escalating to the point where each new scene will make you flinch in anticipation of the brutal demise of yet another character. Definitely not for the faint of heart, the film indulges in guilty pleasure thrills and explores the dark recesses of our most violent fantasies.

Gosling during the Q&A session at TIFF.

One scene, in particular, which takes place in an elevator, vividly contrasts the tenderness of a first kiss with a violent (and prolonged) death sequence. You'll never truly feel comfortable in an elevator ever again. Drive is filled with similar scenes -- jarring violent images that will shock you right out of your seat; and, judging from the gasps and applause from the audience last night, it happened on a few occasions.

As the driver, Gosling is a commanding screen presence -- he's absolutely terrifying and will erase all your previous memories of him as a gawky teen on Breaker High or as a romantic lead. His Driver is a man without a name or any past that we are aware of, making his actions all the more chilling since the audience is left without any idea of the true origin of his anger. Gosling proves he can play diverse characters and still bring his A-game to each performance.

Another noteworthy performance, albeit in a much smaller capacity, is Bryan Cranston as Gosling's pal, Shannon. The man can do no wrong, between this and the AMC series, Breaking Bad.  He's one of the few characters that actually inspires audience sympathy.

Despite the performances and the highly-stylized visual concept and direction, Drive stumbles a bit, preventing it from becoming a truly epic piece of revenge cinema. The uneven pacing at the beginning of the film makes it feel a little lopsided -- at first there's minimal dialogue and a whole lot of driving around. Perhaps Rehn's intention may have been to lull the audience into a state of calm before foisting the extreme violence on them. So, if that was his intent, it succeeded. If not, than the pacing could have used some re-tweaking.

Female characters are often relegated to the background in films like Drive -- although in this film they are practically put in a faraway corner. It's unfortunate that Mulligan's character, Irene, had little to do other than glance longingly at the driver -- even after she witnesses one of his violent episodes firsthand. There's no indication as to why Irene would even consider seeing the driver again and placing her son's life in danger just to be nearer to this violent man.

I didn't quite know what to make of Drive once the credits started rolling. I can appreciate where people are coming from when they tout it as one of the most stylish films to come out of Hollywood in years. Yet, there was something missing that I couldn't quite put my finger on. Visually stunning, yes. An homage to both Hollywood films past and European arthouse flicks, yes. Perhaps it was the pacing or the lack of any real character development -- or maybe my expectations were too high -- but I left wanting a little more substance to accompany the graphic violence. That being said, I realize I'm likely in the minority when it comes to Drive. 

Regardless of my torn opinion, I'm glad I saw it. It will likely be discussed quite heavily among film fans for the next few months and who doesn't love when a film inspires great discussion? So, just sit back and buckle your seatbelts when you watch Drive. You'll certainly be taken for a ride.

FINAL GRADE: B


Question: Drive will likely provoke a strong reaction in anyone who sees it. What did you love or dislike about the film?