Over the years Sir Maurice Micklewhite has been is some right old guff. For every moment of quiet gravitas as Alfred The Butler there’s a ‘Shadow Run’ waiting to quietly derail things.
Even back in the good old days you couldn’t trust him not to slip into a dress and beggar belief fighting killer Bees – frankly, the man’s long been a danger to his own career, so it’s a tribute to his charisma that he remains such an enduring screen icon – and in Daniel Barber’s Sarth Lahndahn violence-fest, we’re reminded exactly why.
The publicity bumf tells us that ex-marine Harry Brown’s tale is an urban western, and there’s certainly more than a touch of Eastwood about the place as feral hoodies terrorise the estate where Brown is quietly living out his twilight years, but where Clint would imbue things with a moral, mystical centre, Barber instead opts for straight-out revenge fantasy fulfilment that owes far more to Death Wish than Pale Rider.
To be fair, things begin in a less-than-sensationalist manner, the grim and very grey concrete of estate life bought to soul-sapping life with bleached, warn out colours that are British to the bone. It’s a very real representation of the sink estate problem and it’s initially heartening to see a fairly high profile film address these problems.
Then we meet the baddies.
Laughing off police hampered by almost cartoonish bureaucracy, the feral, crack peddling, rutting, white cider addicted kidz are completely irredeemable. As Harry is pushed too far when an old friend is killed by Sean Harris (A committed but ultimately overplayed crackhead) and begins offing the little bastards one by one, you’re with him all the way – if only because the villains bare only the most fleeting resemblance to genuine humans – while the grimy violence is captured perfectly with some marvelous dark cinematography that flits between stark, stagey mood lighting and bustling handicam that excellently captures the ‘what the hell is going on?’ atmosphere of an urban rumble.
Harry himself is a broad composite of festering Middle-England unrest, and any questioning of the ethics behind his rampage is glossed over.
Despite some strong if occasionally overblown support, there’s no doubt who the star is here, and Caine shines. Committed and believable in his crusade, he’s a genuine anchor that raises the game whenever he appears, steely resolve showing the Get Carter fire is still there and making you wonder exactly why he’s so often relegated to supporting man status.
This may well be his action role swansong, and despite the hints of exploitation cinema as Harry starts using just a few too many rounds to clean up the streets, there’s much to enjoy in the great man’s performance and the dubious ethics can’t detract from a charismatic, compelling lead.
