LFF 2017: Journeyman

dir. Paddy Considine, UK, 2017

Hopes were high for Paddy Considine's long-awaited follow-up to his devastating directorial debut Tyrannosaur, from which I still haven't quite recovered six years on. The story of a boxing champion floored by a brain injury has lesser hacks than I furiously clicking open their folder of Sports Movie Pullquotes, but it pains me to say that Journeyman does not deliver a knockout blow, nor does it have the competition on the ropes, nor will you be out for the count. In fact it frustratingly pulls its punches, and it might have completely thrown in the towel were it not saved by the bell of Considine's own performance.

As world middleweight number one Matty Burton, Paddy Considine doesn't quite go the full de Niro in terms of method acting, although when we do see him fight it's bruising enough to elicit the odd wince every time a punch is landed. Outside the ring, we see that he really is the anti-Jake La Motta: a genuinely decent bloke who loves his family and doesn't even particularly want to get up in his opponent's grill at the pre-match press conference. Considine is effortlessly charming here, but as the film's writer there's a sense that he may have written himself into a too-comfortable corner; what could possibly happen to this wealthy, successful sportsman that might have the audience in anything approaching sympathy? Fortunately his boxing nemesis repeatedly informs him that their next bout will be "a life-changer", leaving us in little doubt where all this is going.

Sure enough, Burton is horrifically incapacitated after suffering one blow to the noggin too many, and this is when the problems begin for him, his family and the audience. Considine is a magnetic actor treading a fine line here, and he's to be applauded for what is clearly a well-researched, sensitive performance; similarly Jodie Whittaker, as his put-upon wife, is equally convincing. However the major misstep is in making Burton a world champion with no apparent cause for alarm as far as money is concerned. His very status makes most of what follows impossible to swallow: not only does everyone but his wife inexplicably abandon him in his time of need, but the level of care he receives is laughably underwhelming for a top-flight millionaire sporting hero.

I don't profess to be anything approaching a screenwriter, but at some point during Journeyman I couldn't help but wonder why Considine hadn't written Burton as an amateur boxer with no pre-existing support network or massive wealth. The immediately obvious drama that could have unfolded in those circumstances would have evoked infinitely more sympathy and identification, and the chance to throw in some stark social commentary could have resulted in a worthy subplot. All we get instead is the unfulfilled promise of an insight into macho male relationship dynamics and a saddening dearth of Jodie Whittaker, whose character has no real arc and is required to behave quite inexplicably towards the film's climax.

Fortunately Considine the director and actor keeps things moving, and knows which buttons to press to draw out a tear or two from even the hardest-hearted audience (hello). But he's let down here by Considine the writer, and given the cruel magic he performed with Tyrannosaur, that's a major disappointment.

Submarine

I've got to say I'm very pleased with how 2011 is turning out. After 2010 parped out just four films that I would allow onto my DVD shelf, this year has already presented four that I'm itching to see again, and it's only 74 days old. So well done 2011 and well done Richard Ayoade for directing the sublime, subdued and substantially good Submarine.

With a cast of hyper-real characters, a handful of fantasy scenes and a script full of lines that literally nobody would ever say in real life ("Once, I ripped my vest off in front of a woman... it produced a very atavistic response"), Submarine is destined to be labelled with the nauseating "offbeat" and "quirky" tags that often get used to describe something that isn't Transformers 3, even though that film will almost certainly feature all of the above. Apart from the "atavistic" bit, obviously.

Ayoade marshalls all the elements of his film with such a deft hand it's hard to believe that it's his first feature, but with several ingenious music videos to his name already, he's clearly set to join Edgar Wright and Garth Jennings as a force to be reckoned with in the field of visionary British directors. His own script, adapted from Joe Dunthorne's novel, is full of pathos, romance and pant-pissing LOLs, Erik Wilson's cinematography is heartbreakingly gorgeous and Alex Turner's original songs are things of aching beauty.

Alex Turner: 'Piledriver Waltz'


But it's the cast that effortlessly wins you over: it's impossible to take your eyes off Craig Roberts as the deadpan hero Oliver Tate; if he doesn't become the icon of a generation of teenage boys then there's something wrong with the world. Yasmin Paige is exactly as alluring, aloof and untouchable as teenage girls are to teenage boys and Noah Taylor, Sally Hawkins and The Mighty Considine are note-perfect as the supporting cast of hopelessly tragic yet heart-warmingly human characters.

Struggling to find something wrong with it in order to not come across like a fawning berk, all I can come up with is that Submarine drags ever so slightly in the final act. Fortunately there are enough shots of Paddy Considine's tremungous hair to kep you entertained and you can be sure that zingers like "Feel my piss" and "You've got to shut this shit down" are lurking just under the surface, waiting to remind you that British film in 2011 is about so much more than stammering royalty.

A Cup Of Reasonable, But Unexceptional, Tea

Irritatingly, I missed Le Donk & Scor-zay-zee at the cinema, although I can’t really be blamed because it was only on for about four minutes at one tiny cinema in some obscure part of London that’s only accessible by dirigible airship. Fortunately, and I have to say quite unexpectedly, it was released on DVD almost immediately, which means it’ll probably be on Channel 4 before you finish reading this and the sequel will be out on theatrical release.

If that turns out to be the case, don’t bother flicking through the Yellow Pages to hire a zeppelin in order to find it, for Le Donk & Scor-zay-zee was merely a slice of OK cake washed down with a cup of reasonable, but unexceptional, tea.

Filmed mockumentary-style by the consistently good but never quite awesome Shane Meadows, this is the flimsy tale of an East Midlands roadie, Le Donk, and his lardy rapping bud, Scor-zay-zee, as they take a very short road trip, work with “The Arctical Monkeys”, strive to realise a long-held dream and, for Le Donk, fail to deal with his ex-girlfriend moving on.

The film perches somewhere on the same comedy ladder as This Is Spinal Tap and TV’s 'The Office', but remains several rungs below both. Le Donk, played by the always excellent Paddy Considine, is an almost David Brent-esque berk who loves the attention of having a camera crew follow him around, and while he shows himself up to be talentless, selfish and unlikeable, he’s never quite funny enough to make us forgive his disagreeable nature.

That said, it’s over in 71 minutes and has some excellent opening titles, so, you know, every cloud…*



In unrelated (and shamelessly self-promotional) news, The Incredible Suit now has what is commonly known by young people as “a Facebook page”, which means you can come out and tell the world you’re a fan of this monumental pile of old cabbages with just one relatively painless click of the mouse. Somewhere on this page is a button that says “Become a Fan”; doing so means you’ll be the first to know when there’s a new post (providing you’re constantly glued to Facebook like a laboratory teenager), and – apparently – you can even have discussions about just how peerlessly professional, staggeringly informative and bum-scratchingly thought-provoking the blog is. All of which you could just do by talking to each other, but nobody does that any more, it’s just tedious.

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* This is a David Brent quote. It’s intentional. I don’t just throw these things together, you know. I bet you didn't notice the Wordy Rappinghood gag either. Honestly, I don't know why I etc etc...