VIFF '10 Review: Denmark's 'R' A Response To 'A Prophet' But Also Its Own Beast

Trends in film are inevitable. If a certain genre or style of film is successful, filmmakers, like sharks hovering around a dead carcass, will chew off a chunk of flesh for themselves, hoping to recapture something that's worked already. This happens every year, it seems.

Because this is so common in movies, the gritty Danish prison drama "R" will be unable to escape comparisons to Jacques Audiard's "A Prophet," which hit it big at Cannes last year (taking home the Grand Jury Prize, essentially runner-up to Michael Haneke's excellent "The White Ribbon"), then found critical success in the States while also picking up a Best Foreign Language Film nomination at last year's Oscars. Whether intentional or by happenstance on the part of writing/directing duo Michael Noer and Tobias Lindholm, the films are inexorably linked.

The film opens when Rune (an excellent Johan Philip Asbæk, looking like a shorter, blond-haired Michael Shannon) is delivered to one of Denmark's oldest and meanest prisons, and subsequently assigned to the most dangerous part. "What did you do to end up in that ward?" a guard asks him. "The others are twice your size, and they're waiting for you. They know you're coming." He's not kidding, there are men in this film of such towering stature, they impose on the camera. The frame is almost unable to contain some of them. The saying "fly on a wall" feels literal here. The audience is merely a speck, a cockroach, looking up at tattooed, pierced giants -- real-life ex-cons and former prison guards make up most of the cast -- onscreen.

From the opening 20 minutes, I was sure I'd already figured this film out. The stakes and setting are laid out well, if not in a very familiar way. We enter the prison, meet our naive protagonist, he strips down for a full body cavity search, is put in his cell, and has to immediately defend his ground. Seeing our hero as a weakling, The Mason, as he's known, wastes no time in forcing Rune's hand in to violence. "You either fuck somebody up, or you get fucked up," he tells him on their first meeting in the prison yard. They want a Muslim prisoner killed. Rune takes the assignment, proving to be more resourceful and vicious then we at first suspect. The murder that follows sets the tone for the rest of the film. It's brutal, unflinching and all-too realistic.

Sound familiar? So this is clearly a rip-off of "A Prophet," then, right? Wrong, actually. It's almost as if the filmmakers had seen Audiard's masterful prison gangster epic -- a more nuanced, detailed and realistic take on the criminal ascending the ranks tale; basically "Scarface" for the arthouse crowd -- and wanted their film to appear so similar at first that it would trick the audience. Rune quickly learns to navigate the system and raise his status in the inmate hierarchy, using his wits with a touch of good fortune. He's an impulsive cleaner, which comes in handy, leading to an opportunity for him to get in on the drug dealing run by The Mason's boss, a man that could've been a worthy adversary to Arnold Schwarzenegger in one of his countless '80s action bloodbaths.

Then there's a moment where it becomes all too clear Noer and Lindholm have other things in mind for their film and lead character. It's almost Hitchcockian, in a way. "A Prophet" proposes that through knowledge and education, the lead character can go all the way to the top. The thesis in "R" is much harsher, more pragmatic: the weak will always be weak in this place, and control of one's fate in this world is but an illusion for people like Rune. He's got the wherewithal to find success (in this case, merely surviving), but that's not enough. There are consequences to screwing up in this environment, and retribution is inevitable; life has little meaning in this self-contained world and film.

The turns of the plot jar the viewer out of that once comforting sense of familiarity. All of a sudden, we're in a different story altogether. Someone else's new nightmare. Cinephiles unfortunately often relish being a step ahead of a film; we've seen it all, so you can't surprise us. When that's subverted as it is so brilliantly here, you have to take your hat off to the artists who pulled it off. That's not to infer "R" is merely a one-trick pony. Far from it, the twists and diversions in the narrative add more pathos, more subtext. It becomes deeper and even more grim.

Cinematographer Magnus Nordenhof Jønck employs stylistic elements and techniques not unlike Refn's "Pusher Trilogy," favoring an always mobile, hand-held camera, like a documentarian always ready to catch the next sudden act of violence or drug deal. This on-the-street style, perfected by Scorsese in "Mean Streets," is used a lot these days, to be sure, but when done right (as it is here), it lends the film a sense of visceral urgency that is wholly appropriate. You certainly can't say that about 'Prophet', which is far more graceful and poetic in its imagery and violence. So the comparisons must end there, for "R" is yet another prison movie worth seeking out, because it chooses its own path in the genre, and carves out something sad and artful in return. [A-]

Trailer [via Twitch] below

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Review: 'Down Terrace' Not Quite A New Gangster Classic, But Still Damn Good

Crime stories have a long and celebrated lineage in film. Like horror, it’s a fun, but often disappointing genre. You have to wade through a lot of shit to get to the gold. But when they're good, they're really good. Great modern gangster films – the past decade has seen some bona fide new classics with "The Pusher Trilogy," "City of God," "Gomorrah," "A Prophet" and even the recent "Animal Kingdom" – transcend and twist the genre, revitalizing what was once rote.

The new British crime film, "Down Terrace," while not quite on the level of the aforementioned films (it might be on B-squad, but like Willem Dafoe in "The Life Aquatic" it's the B-squad leader, at least), is nonetheless well-made and darkly comic. It's one of the stronger comedies of the year, in fact, but also puts a fresh spin on the Brit crime movie.

When the excellent trailer hit recently, we noted other strong UK-based crime movies such as "Layer Cake," "Long Good Friday," "Get Carter" and "Sexy Beast" as "classic examples" despite the British gangster movie having "become a fairly maligned genre, swamping U.K. multiplex screens and supermarket shelves with abysmal, low-rent, laddy fare." 'Terrace,' a true gem just waiting to be discovered by the right audience (on DVD, most likely, and with some time, it could really find a strong, cult following), is successful not in its defiance of crime movie cliches, but in its embrace of them, like how a filthy shower, once scrubbed clean, can sometimes look brand-spanking new.

Director Ben Wheatley and co-writer/co-star Robin Hill have created a new kind of crime family, splicing together the Sopranos with Mike Leigh-esque kitchen sink melodrama, and then setting them loose in a paranoiac world where everyone is a suspect, and nobody is safe. Somehow the film feels both totally believable, as if it could be happening right now in the real world, but also heightened enough like a TV sitcom. The balance struck between the two is impressive.

When Bill and Karl (real life father and son Robert Hill and Robin) are released from prison in the film's opening, they celebrate and catch up with friends, but immediately begin the search for the rat. Not helping their paranoia is all the weed smoked between the two. Bill is the head of the family. His wife, played wonderfully by "Spaced" landlord Julia Deakin, seems only on the fringes at first, but is far more involved than she lets on initially (similar to "Animal Kingdom"). Karl is looking to maybe make a change, discovering he's about to become a father.

Soon enough, the body count begins to rise, and tensions are raised, especially in the final third, as we wonder just what way the son will swing in the conclusion. It's important to remember that, like "Animal Kingdom" (again), these are people near their end, paranoid, and numbing their brains just to get through these terrible things and realizations (hence all the drug use). They're all selfish, incredibly narcissistic people.

We can't stress enough how freaking hilarious this film is. It's British humor, with a capital "B." Robert Hill's portrayal of Bill is one of the best performances of the year. Charismatic and always in the right (at least from his point of view), he is a former hippie who turned to drug dealing because he had a son, and now spends his time high, singing and playing guitar, and bantering with his son (using a real father-son duo was a genius decision; you just can't manufacture this kind of familial chemistry). Even Bill's inflection is funny, which makes his dialogue that much better ("Do you have a Web presence?" he asks the family hit man).
And then there's the ending. Wow. Thankfully Wheatley has the strength to follow through on his convictions here, and push the narrative to a rather extreme and bleak conclusion. Look for subtle character moments that end up telling you a lot: Karl's girlfriend speaking up at dinner to Bill, for one; the film is littered with these. It rewards the fastidious, attentive moviegoer.

It's a lot of fun seeing these specific people go through what nearly every crime family has in the movies and TV, from the Corleones to the Sopranos. It mostly accomplishes what it strives for. "Down Terrace" doesn't reinvent the wheel, but it's not attempting that, story-wise. So it may have...let's say, low ambitions (even that feels harsh though), but that's not a bad thing when in the end, the result is a very good, well-made film. [B+]

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