Having watched Bypass twice (and I suggest other reviewers do likewise) it seems that many have come to this film and not been aware of their own prior expectations and 'ways of seeing'. Of course many will have certain expectations given Hopkin's first feature Better Things, but they may have wrongly expected more of the same, and thus not been open to the ideas and themes that the film presents. It can be read in a typical and might I suggest, lazy way, which is one which will result in missing the richness that the film offers. Concerning the visual style that Hopkins (and his cinematographer, David Procter) employs, many have discussed the lyrical/poetic nature of it, yet what seems to have been missed is the shot-size selection and rhythm created by it. The film favours the Close-up, with sparing use of wide-shots, so that when wide/er shots are used they are used to communicate a narrative point without the need for dialogue; they tell us something (Tim standing in the empty bedroom once occupied by his mother is one such example). In scenes where mid-shots are employed, they are shot on the long-end of the lens so that the space around Tim and others is compressed. Proctor's camera is constantly on Tim's shoulder so that we relate closely to an almost POV. This visual style works in conjunction with what we are told, or rather what is withheld from us in certain scenes; we are never given omniscient knowledge, but restrained so that we know no more than Tim does; his illness and the precise machinations of the criminals remain unclear; because Tim is only a bottom of the food chain foot-soldier. As such, the camera brings us close to experience events that are just as muddled to us as they are Tim. Here we are seeing Hopkins continue to explore cinematic form as any person claiming to be a film-maker should. It's approaches such as this that appear to have gone unconsidered as many critics have decided to look for what they know, not found it, then uncritically dismissed the film unfairly. Yes the film is poetic and lyrical in its depictions, but the style is doing more in terms of story than it has been given credit for. A thematic concern that is worth consideration is the notion of fathers; the absent and the becoming, which at the same time speaks of children, protection, encouragement, safety and security and a hope for something better than what is at hand. Here it is not only Tim, his sister and older brother who feel loss, but they are representative of a generation, not just themselves. This generational comment is most profoundly communicated in Tim's fit; this is not just the unidentified illness taking its toll on one young man, but upon a generation who have no arsenal of family, contacts or qualifications with which to fight the uncertainties of the modern age; this is the convulsion of a generation played out alone, unseen and uncared for (where, if we are honest, we'd sooner it stayed). Here then, Tim should be considered as an archetype. The ending of the film has also been misread; it's only happy for a fleeting moment that surely Tim deserves, and will soon be gone when he returns to the estate to try against the odds to provide as a father. Some people have dismissed Bypass as being too heavy-handed in the rapid chain of dismal events that befall Tim and his fiends and family, that Hopkins has laid them on too thick. Not so. If you have not yet seen Bypass, go and sit in a pub in an estate like the one Hopkins depicts (if you dare, or if you can find one open), and listen to the life-stories on offer, then watch it. You may well find that Hopkins has not gone far enough. If you have watched it, look again, but only after you have given your predispositions and prejudices a Greg style right-hook.
Review of Bypass
