Bronson Movie Review
Directed by Nicholas Windig Refn, Starring Tom Hardy
'My name's Charles Bronson...and all my life I've wanted to be famous'. So begins this lean, bizarre tale of the notorious criminal (embodied in charismatic, hulking glory by a beefed up Hardy), originally born Michael Gordon Peterson and raised in Luton, UK. Jailed at a young age for a post office robbery, Bronson quickly learns he can make a name for himself with violent antics within the penal system itself.
Criminal Biopic
There's perhaps more than a passing echo of Goodfellas in those opening words but Windig Refn is playing a tricky game with the audience, risking, with his niche subject matter and unsavoury title character, alienating many viewers while failing to attract new ones.
After all, how is one supposed to feel about a man who has spent most of his life in prison, 34 years of them in solitary confinement? Refn's film sensibly doesn't patronise the audience by presenting him as a hero but this is itself part of the problem. Why bother making a film about Bronson at all? The film's failure to provide a solution to these questions will surely divide reaction.
Excellent Theatrical lead
One thing it does have in its favour is a superb title performance from Tom Hardy (Star Trek: Nemesis) who consulted with Bronson himself prior to filming and has built himself in a mammoth giant of a man for the part. It's not just the physical qualities that speak of commitment to the role: from the moment he dares stare down the viewer to camera, twitching and wheezing guttural belly laughs, it's an intimidating turn.
The most memorable and clever parts of the film deal with Bronson's delusions of grandeur and celebrity head on by having him present on a dimly lit stage to an imaginary captive audience who rise and fall at his every anecdote. The man himself occasionally appears in grotesque clown like make-up, and it's in these moments that the film best approaches the subtle psychological profile it badly wants to be.
Memorable Prison Movie
Elsewhere however, the film is content merely to be a meandering portrayal of institutional violence, leaving the experience a hollow and unpleasant one. This is in spite of Hardy's best efforts (including a nerve wracking scene where he takes a prison guard hostage and forces him to daub him in 'war paint'). To director Refn's credit, he should also be applauded for avoiding the straightforward biopic route, aiming for something more challenging.
However the lack of background social commentary can be galling (Bronson claims that growing up in Luton was challenging in the 70s but the film refuses to go further as to how this may have shaped his character). As infuriating as it is intriguing, Bronson is at least likely to go down as one of the more original films of 2009, as inscrutable as the eponymous character himself.
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