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IB REVIEW: TRAINSPOTTING

Written by Ishmael Mainoo

Heroin, underage relationships and the occasional armed robbery all wrapped up and deep fried just the way Scotland likes it. Frankie Boyle’s cinematic adaptation of the novel of the same Name: Trainspotting is a film that depicts the lives of five young Scottish roughs who are all trying to make their way in the world and four of which wrestle with the bad habit of heroin use. Especially our main protagonist and humble narrator Mark Renton (Ewan McGregor). A young man in his early twenties who attempts to break his habit of the recreational use of intravenous hard drugs. All while juggling a circle of odd ball friends from the deranged short tempered sociopath Francis Begbie (Robert Carlyle) and  Questionable crook ‘Sickboy’ (Jonny Lee Miller)  to HIS kind hearted user and best friend  Spud (Ewen Bremner).as well as the most sensible out of the group ‘Tommy’ (Kevin Mckidd) who does not partake of the poppy…..until he does….

Trainspotting takes place in a bleak working class area of Edinburgh and is filled with a varied array of dark and colourful humour to fill your one hour and thirty five minutes.  From a critical analytical perspective: the film gives a somewhat negative view on the use of narcotic use through the eyes of a young existentialist in Renton. Showing  the “rebellious young junkie” in Mark Renton  who ironically quotes the anti-drug slogan of the time “ Choose life” only to add to it mockingly with such locutions as “Choose a career,” or “Choose a f#@king big television” this crass dry sense of British humour adds to the subtly depressing feel of the film and the character as he lives his almost care free life playing football in the cages, and going out looking for a quick romp on a night out. As well as going to the humble abode of his heroin dealer aptly named “Mother superior” for a quick fix.

Whether you are a averse to the use of heroin as a recreational substance (as your writer is) or an ex/current user of heroin one might be filled with an odd sense of intrigue and taboo curiosity at seeing Renton and the other users such as sickboy and Spud sprawled out in a state of euphoric bliss on the red shag rug of Mother Superior’s spartan flat. Or a sense of fervent disgust having heard of the malign effects of the potent drug from your parents, teacher or community support officer *Or ex users). Frankie Boyle does well to give us a unique process into how the drug is used for consumption with close ups on the water or liquid solution being stirred into the powder to make it suitable for injection as well as the heating on the stainless steal table spoon. All done in a way that would make one have even more disdain for the drug. The pinnacle of the sequence would be the extreme close up of the syringe as the liquid drains into the person’s arm.

As almost any drug film would:Frankie Boyle shows us the true damage of addiction and as Renton goes through an overdose after accidentally injecting a more potent dose than what he’s use to, similar to Mia Wallace in Pulp fiction. The scene suspends our belief of reality even further by depicting Renton being lowered into a coffin accompanied by a POV shot likening it to his own funeral only to be pulled out by a nurse giving him an adrenaline shot. Playfully showing us how close our protagonist came to the end. This scene though tastefully done, serves as the film’s way of highlighting a real social issue in society.  Boyle also distressingly plays with surrealism and fever dreams again as Renton is forced into going through Heroin withdrawal which is another type of hell for a heroin and opioid user. Where one goes through a bout of vomit, colds sweats, body aches and even paranoia. Which can last 30 hours. In this Withdrawal Boyle misses no chance to show us an array of the weird and not wonderful as Renton delves deep into his own mental psyche, wrestling with the decisions he’s made over his life. All whilst being locked in his room against his will by his parents for what can only be described as his own good.

However after this ordeal we see a somewhat changed Renton now clean he attempts to get his life on track. And feels there is only one way to do just that; and moves to the metropolitan city of London. Where he works a comfortable job in as an estate agent. And lives in a comfortable apartment. All goes well it seems until the arrival of Francis Begbie who seeks a hideout after an armed robber of a jewellers and later sick boy who brings his own troubles to Renton’s door. Ultimately the story climaxes as Sickboy, Begbie Renton and Renton organize a Heroin “Scag” Deal with a London Based dealer. Which will net them each four grand. However, we see a mental shift in the character almost a progression as Renton steals Begbie and Sickboy’s sum of the money and discreetly leaves like a thief in the night ready to start a new life. this act can almost act as comeuppance for the aggressive unpredictable Begbie and thief Sickboy who realistically have done nothing but add stresses to Renton’s life from the beginning (Especially when Sickboy attempted to sell his passport to illegal buyers) In short I believe this film show a realistic look of Working class Scotland and indeed certain aspects of society in the 1990s and a rather personal perspective on this world from the eyes of Mark Renton.  

[ishy-man]

IB REVIEW: THE IRISHMAN

Written by ishmael Mainoo 

An ambitious comeback for a director that needs no introduction, Italian American film director Martin Scorsese’s cinematic adaptation of the Charles Brandt Biography: ’I heard you paint houses’ a detailing the life of Frank “The Irishman” Sheeran and his dealings with the Buffalino crime family, and Jimmy Hoffa head of the teamsters union.  Can be described as enthralling. Informative and macabre as well as thoroughly enjoyable. Speaking as a man familiar with the filmography of the ‘new Hollywood’ icon, it was refreshing to see an auteur like Scorsese returning to his artistic roots. Reminiscent of such previous works as Casino and The mafia classic Goodfellas. And with the line-up of an all-star cast. Scorsese could well be likened to Marvel’s S.H.I.E.LD agent: Nick Fury as he assembles his avengers. Seeing him team up once again with the likes of Stout ‘tough guy’ Joe Pesci, The Ragin bull Robert De Niro, And of course Al Pacino. All of whom are no strangers to appearing in the odd gangster flick or two. All this along with the addition of British actor Stephen Graham who has indeed starred in his fair share of crime productions from Tommy in the guy Ritchie film ‘Snatch’ to Chicago mob boss Al Capone in the critically acclaimed HBO series ‘Boardwalk empire’,  I think we can safely say this cast will take to any gangster role like a duck to water. And an appearance by Harvey Keitel as the respected Mob boss Angelo Bruno as well as a little something for the young people as new York rapper Action Bronson has a bit part as a coffin salesman, but I digress…

The Irishman is yet another biopic style film about an antihero in Frank Sheeran (Robert De Niro) who’s line of work lead to the slow and subtle dismantling of his family life especially his relationship with his daughter Peggy who witnesses certain sides to her father that she knows are less than pleasant and eventually her fear of him turns to hatred as she realises her father is a cold blooded killer. Within the opening shot we see our silver haired protagonist and humble narrator; Frank Sheeran sitting alone in his section of the cafeteria at a nursing home for the elderly. Almost held in captivity by his wheelchair. As he reminisces to us in the typical Scorsese fashion of breaking the fourth wall. About how life used to be. Treating the audience as an eager child hearing stories of the ‘the good ol’days’ from Grandpa. Showing muted attrition for his acts and almost a sense of self pity in his tone before even getting into the story. The elderly Irish American hitman still has an air of military philosophy in his character. That one could attribute to the character’s time in the second world war as he rationalises his acts as any quintessential soldier would, by stating he was only following orders.  

From a technical standpoint the film’s cinematography was nothing short of trademark Scorsese, the tracking shot through the nursing home and into the room where frank sits, almost emulating the single take done by Henry and Karen Hill entering through the staff entrance at the Copacabana club in Goodfellas, or the quick cross cuts between Jo Hoffa (Welker white) turning on her ignition and an exploding car from another job. Indeed, it is the suspense created from the long pause of Jo anxiously awaiting to turn her engine on that transforms the scene alone into something of sheer brilliance.  The Irishman to me was a testament to the scorcese cinematic mafia world. And  will leave you either  fascinated with the mafioso subculture or leave you ultimately disgusted with their heinous and nonchalant behaviour to murder. However unlike Goodfellas, casino or even the wolf of wall street, I found the film to be ‘an acquired taste’ if it so can be called, unlike it’s predecessors I found that the film was more dialogue driven than films before it and set at a slower pace. Compared to the aforementioned names. Well written though the film was and with the certain east coast lexical flair which all added to a believable and natural dialogue. I couldn’t help but feel that this came at the expense of momentum for the film. even the opening scenes of Scorsese’s films beforehand struck you with action from the very beginning. Whether it’s three guys driving at night with a halfdead body in the trunk. (Goodfellas). or a Casino boss leaving a restaurant ready to turn on the ignition in his car only to unknowingly detonate a car bomb (Casino). Or even a midget toss at an office party in the heart of New York’s financial district. (The Wolf of Wall Street). I feel that if the Irishman was a horse it is in no way shape or form a front runner and is a film that requires a viewer’s patience.

Which is probably why a handful of viewers (philistines) complained after it’s initial  release stating it to be ‘boring’ and ‘too long’,  I can empathise with these people on the ‘boring’ part, upon my first viewing even I had to wave my cursor to check the time marker to see how long I had left of this picture. However, to simply complain a film is ‘too long’ is in my mind nothing short of nonsense. Especially if you are familiar with Scorsese’s works: The runtime for the Wolf of Wall street is exactly three hours, Goodfellas two hours and twenty-eight minutes and Casino at Two hours and Fifty-eight. To conclude the runtime of a film should have no bearing on the quality of the film itself.  And would not be a problem for most were the film more visually stimulating. Where the wolf of wall street, casino and Goodfellas featured frequent fast cuts and dynamic shots of abhorrent drug use, rampant sex, and/or poor bastards getting their brains blown out. All set to a multitude of complimenting soundtracks by artists such as Ray Charles, The rolling stones, Smokestack lighting or frank Sinatra etc. The Irishman had a distinct lack of all mentioned. However, this muted tone made for a more earnest watching. instead of relying on fast cuts and music sequences, it relied on the tension created by nuances in dialogue. The tension was even made sharper by the lack of non-diegetic sound. Seen multiple times especially when Tony Slaerno and Russel Buffalino (Joe Pesci) Tell Frank to persuade Jimmy (Al Pacino) to retire. (Essentially, ‘tell him to retire or we whack him’)

 To the finish, the film’s story as a whole reminded me of Goodfellas in the sense of a character being indoctrinated into the mob life and showing the day to day stresses and moral dilemmas of working in such a career. Such as attempting to blow up a laundry place only to find out before the act that it belongs to your mob boss. And trying to prevent your hot-headed friend from getting killed by your employers. However I believe this picture goes a step further by showing how our protagonist got to work for the mafia - what life was like working for the mafia - and life after the mafia as an old man riddled with arthritis. Which leaves one to almost sympathise with this Irishman. As he sits alone in his nursing home. Isolated from the open world, with all his friend’s dead. Or in prison and a family that wants nothing to do with him because of who he was.