Harry Brown (2009)
For those who appreciate that Clint Eastwood idea of taking the law into your own hands, here's a gritty, bloody, violent British version with Michael Caine, of all people, as a kind of Dirty Harry.
And it works. I'm sympathetic to this old guy seeing his world crumble around him. The movie plays with workable clichés, namely that Caine's title character comes from a more honorable generation, and that he was a decorated Marine. So when his best friend is killed by drug crazed thugs, he decides to get even.
There are no theatrical lines like, "Make my day," and in a way the movie is both a success for its brutality and is burdened by it, and by the realism that goes with it. Because "Harry Brown" attempts to be unrelentingly believable, even if it gets to be over the top, too. We are scared by this situation, and by the senselessness of it, and by the powerless police. We also know that the solution Harry Brown finds is short lived and limited.
But the movie isn't really about Harry Brown's success but about the failure of society to control the drugs and the violence that go with it. And to control the situations that lead to this kind of society--the projects, the poverty, the lack of good schools, and so on (whatever they are, I'm just spouting the usual).
But this is Michael Caine's movie (as with so many of his movies) and he really does, again, show a presence and a subtlety that are remarkable. You wouldn't maybe expect him to show the cold hearted violence he needs here, but it's tinged with justice and maybe even compassion (not for the jerks, but for the victims of the criminals). The one cop who is consistent in the official fight against the thugs is Emily Mortimer, a really good actress slightly miscast (she comes off more as a sociologist than a street cop turned detective). Still, she's a great balance to Caine.
The one clear flaw, especially in the middle third, is that it's just slow. For all the drugs shown in the movie, it might have helped if the editor had at least tried some caffeine, because it pokes along and thinks that the drama of the situation will command the scene and it doesn't, not always. This is director Daniel Barber's second movie, and maybe there is both the sense of wanting to make a mark with some energy and edginess, but also the sense of not quite having the chops to do it perfectly. Not yet. It verges on the sensational too many times to sustain itself.
For those who appreciate that Clint Eastwood idea of taking the law into your own hands, here's a gritty, bloody, violent British version with Michael Caine, of all people, as a kind of Dirty Harry.
And it works. I'm sympathetic to this old guy seeing his world crumble around him. The movie plays with workable clichés, namely that Caine's title character comes from a more honorable generation, and that he was a decorated Marine. So when his best friend is killed by drug crazed thugs, he decides to get even.
There are no theatrical lines like, "Make my day," and in a way the movie is both a success for its brutality and is burdened by it, and by the realism that goes with it. Because "Harry Brown" attempts to be unrelentingly believable, even if it gets to be over the top, too. We are scared by this situation, and by the senselessness of it, and by the powerless police. We also know that the solution Harry Brown finds is short lived and limited.
But the movie isn't really about Harry Brown's success but about the failure of society to control the drugs and the violence that go with it. And to control the situations that lead to this kind of society--the projects, the poverty, the lack of good schools, and so on (whatever they are, I'm just spouting the usual).
But this is Michael Caine's movie (as with so many of his movies) and he really does, again, show a presence and a subtlety that are remarkable. You wouldn't maybe expect him to show the cold hearted violence he needs here, but it's tinged with justice and maybe even compassion (not for the jerks, but for the victims of the criminals). The one cop who is consistent in the official fight against the thugs is Emily Mortimer, a really good actress slightly miscast (she comes off more as a sociologist than a street cop turned detective). Still, she's a great balance to Caine.
The one clear flaw, especially in the middle third, is that it's just slow. For all the drugs shown in the movie, it might have helped if the editor had at least tried some caffeine, because it pokes along and thinks that the drama of the situation will command the scene and it doesn't, not always. This is director Daniel Barber's second movie, and maybe there is both the sense of wanting to make a mark with some energy and edginess, but also the sense of not quite having the chops to do it perfectly. Not yet. It verges on the sensational too many times to sustain itself.