Brighton Rock
Just because I wrote it for work's website and they didn't end up using it, I figure I may as well punt up my Brighton Rock review here...
Whatever you may think of his work, you can’t fault Rowan Joffe for bravery. The erstwhile screenwriter behind The American and 28 Weeks Later chose for his feature debut to write and direct a new version of one of the best loved British films ever, based on perhaps the best book by perhaps the best author this country has ever produced.
So bearing in mind the miserable hit to miss rate of remakes of classic films, this is a miserable failure, right? Well no, not in the slightest. It doesn’t come close to eclipsing the previous adaptation, but it is still a remarkably nicely shot and well acted film.
Sam Riley certainly looks the part (and also oddly like Peter Doherty) as the sullen, scowling Pinkie, though he lacks the coiled spring psychosis and spine tingling revulsion that Dickie Attenborough brought to the role. Meanwhile Andy Serkis is excellent as the oily Colleoni and both Helen Mirren and John Hurt are their usual watchable selves (though Mirren is a little problematical, for reasons I’ll get on to).
However the truly standout performance comes from Andrea Riseborough, who takes the thankless role of Rose, and imbues it with a beautifully subtle performance that manages to perfectly portray the contradictory Rose from the book - by turns pathetic and acquiescing and steely in her devotion to Pinkie. This is a properly award-deserving performance that easily eclipses that of Carol Marsh in the original.
The change of setting from the late thirties to the Mod era of the sixties works very well too, lending Pinkie’s Brighton a sense of tension and chaos. Joffe also deftly deals with any accusations of aping Quadrophenia with a couple of obvious nods to that film, including Pinkie on a scooter inadvertently at the head of a convoy of Mods, and a near mirror of the cliff shot that ends it. The cinematography is also beautifully done, adding an incredible rich, griminess to Pinkie’s digs, contrasted with the oversaturated clean whiteness of Colleoni’s room and Ida’s restaurant.
However it’s not all sweetness and light, and Ida is a big part of the problem. I suspect that Joffe was very much in awe of Helen Mirren (and who wouldn’t be, to be fair?), and this has led to her becoming the hero of the piece, and also to some substantial changes in her character. In the book, Greene clearly doesn’t like Ida much, and she’s painted as a shrill, interfering busybody, not to mention a prostitute, rather than Mirren’s somewhat more wholesome restaurant manager.
Giving such a scene stealer as Mirren such an important role rather overshadows Riley’s downplayed performance as Pinkie, who while he’s no sort of hero at all, is still technically the star of the show. This is only one of the strange compromises Joffe has introduced which just take the drama out of the story, such as making Hale the killer of Pinkie’s mentor, thus providing Pinkie far more justification for his murder than he had in the original story.
Oddly, the new adaptation of Brighton Rock follows the book more closely in many ways than the 1947 film (although both films opt for the same ‘nice’ ending), but unfortunately the one area it doesn’t is in spirit, and it completely fails to get that the most important story point is Pinkie is an irrational psychopath, fighting to maintain that against Rose’s unstoppable love, and eventually destroyed by Ida’s unwanted meddling.
That said, this adaptation of Brighton Rock is well acted and a very attractive evocation of a historical time and place, and very watchable to boot, plus Joffe’s courage in even attempting it must be applauded.
Whatever you may think of his work, you can’t fault Rowan Joffe for bravery. The erstwhile screenwriter behind The American and 28 Weeks Later chose for his feature debut to write and direct a new version of one of the best loved British films ever, based on perhaps the best book by perhaps the best author this country has ever produced.
So bearing in mind the miserable hit to miss rate of remakes of classic films, this is a miserable failure, right? Well no, not in the slightest. It doesn’t come close to eclipsing the previous adaptation, but it is still a remarkably nicely shot and well acted film.
Sam Riley certainly looks the part (and also oddly like Peter Doherty) as the sullen, scowling Pinkie, though he lacks the coiled spring psychosis and spine tingling revulsion that Dickie Attenborough brought to the role. Meanwhile Andy Serkis is excellent as the oily Colleoni and both Helen Mirren and John Hurt are their usual watchable selves (though Mirren is a little problematical, for reasons I’ll get on to).
However the truly standout performance comes from Andrea Riseborough, who takes the thankless role of Rose, and imbues it with a beautifully subtle performance that manages to perfectly portray the contradictory Rose from the book - by turns pathetic and acquiescing and steely in her devotion to Pinkie. This is a properly award-deserving performance that easily eclipses that of Carol Marsh in the original.
The change of setting from the late thirties to the Mod era of the sixties works very well too, lending Pinkie’s Brighton a sense of tension and chaos. Joffe also deftly deals with any accusations of aping Quadrophenia with a couple of obvious nods to that film, including Pinkie on a scooter inadvertently at the head of a convoy of Mods, and a near mirror of the cliff shot that ends it. The cinematography is also beautifully done, adding an incredible rich, griminess to Pinkie’s digs, contrasted with the oversaturated clean whiteness of Colleoni’s room and Ida’s restaurant.
However it’s not all sweetness and light, and Ida is a big part of the problem. I suspect that Joffe was very much in awe of Helen Mirren (and who wouldn’t be, to be fair?), and this has led to her becoming the hero of the piece, and also to some substantial changes in her character. In the book, Greene clearly doesn’t like Ida much, and she’s painted as a shrill, interfering busybody, not to mention a prostitute, rather than Mirren’s somewhat more wholesome restaurant manager.
Giving such a scene stealer as Mirren such an important role rather overshadows Riley’s downplayed performance as Pinkie, who while he’s no sort of hero at all, is still technically the star of the show. This is only one of the strange compromises Joffe has introduced which just take the drama out of the story, such as making Hale the killer of Pinkie’s mentor, thus providing Pinkie far more justification for his murder than he had in the original story.
Oddly, the new adaptation of Brighton Rock follows the book more closely in many ways than the 1947 film (although both films opt for the same ‘nice’ ending), but unfortunately the one area it doesn’t is in spirit, and it completely fails to get that the most important story point is Pinkie is an irrational psychopath, fighting to maintain that against Rose’s unstoppable love, and eventually destroyed by Ida’s unwanted meddling.
That said, this adaptation of Brighton Rock is well acted and a very attractive evocation of a historical time and place, and very watchable to boot, plus Joffe’s courage in even attempting it must be applauded.