Filth.

Its not often that a film goes on general release in Scotland before it does in the rest of the UK, at least not before Independence next September, but that’s what happened with Filth (2013) a British crime comedy-drama written and directed by Jon S Baird and based on Irvine Welsh’s third novel of the same name published in 1998. This is Baird’s second feature film after 2008’s Cass the true story of a former football hooligan who became a writer. I suppose that this new film is also about a thug but this time he is a member of the police force!

The nice policeman teaches the wee man some sign language. 

The problems associated with self loathing seems to appear in many of the movies I have watched recently and raises its psychiatric head once more in this every day story of a bigoted, corrupt and substance abusing alcoholic Edinburgh based Scottish Detective, a sort of over the top John Rebus who hates himself to such a degree that he makes nearly every body’s life a misery he comes into contact with.

Obviously part of the investigatiom!

This terrific piece of story telling is the bastard offspring of a three way cinematic shag between Clockwork Orange (1971), Abel Ferrara’s Bad Lieutenant (1992) and Trainspotting (1996) and comprises some of the cream of British acting including Joanne Froggatt, Shirley Henderson, Kate Dickie, Eddie Marsan, Jim Broadbent, Martin Compston, Garry Lewis and John Sessions to name but a few. But even in this exhorted company James McAvoy stands out as the bipolar junkie, Detective Sergeant Bruce Robertson who when asked by his superior why he joined the police force he replied ‘polices oppression’ ‘did you want to stamp it out from the inside?’ ‘No’ replies Robertson ‘I wanted to be part of it’ which really sums up the character.  

Now there's a man who's not always in control?

It’s a movie that will no doubt divide audiences. As Peter Bradshaw remarked in his critique it amounts to Acid Rain on Leith, but thankfully there’s not a sign of a dance routine although we do get a song from David Soul!

A Late Quartet.

Written and directed by American Yaron Silberman whose only previous screen work was an award-winning documentary called Watermarks made in 2004. It related the true story of the Hokoah Vienna Jewish women’s swim team of the 1930’s, their forced separation and their reunion decades later. His first feature film is A Late Quartet (2012), a colourful interpretation of four classical musicians who over the years have grown to rely on each other far too much, and like the preverbal pack of cards, when one falls the others will follow.

The Fugue String Quartet is internationally acclaimed, based in New York they have been playing classical music together for 25 years. The four members consist of cellist Peter Mitchell (Christopher Walken in an unfamiliar role that takes some getting use to) a quiet man whose life has been affected by the recent death of his concert-singing wife from cancer. The second violinist is Robert Gelbert  (Philip Seymour Hoffman) whose ambition to be first violinist has never been fulfilled. He’s married to the quartet’s viola player Juliette (the always superb Catherine Keener) who have been together since their student days. The 40-year-old couple have a daughter Alex (Imogen Poots) who is also a student of music and plays the violin. The fourth member of the quartet is the technically brilliant first violinist Daniel Lerner (Mark Ivanir) an intense man who also teaches Alex violin.

 

Christopher Walken as Peter Mitchell.

Peter announces he has been diagnosed with early signs of Parkinson’s disease a degenerative disorder of the central nervous system that in due course will end his ability to play music. This bombshell throws the remaining members of the quartet in to disarray leading them to question their fears, hopes and futures. 

This intelligent film starts rather slowly but eventually when it kicks into emotional overdrive it does take off.  The acting is first rate as you would expect from a high-powered ensemble cast and for lovers of Beethoven’s Op 131 for String Quartet this is defiantly your movie. The cinematography of Frederick Elmes, who was responsible for the camera work in Coffee and Cigarettes (2003), is the real star of the film highlighting the beauty of mid winter in New Yorks Central Park and contrasting this with the warmth and splendor of the interior shots. 

New Yorks Central Park in winter.

The Look of Love.

Paul Raymond.

Soho is an area in London’s West End that is quite nostalgic for me. In the early summer of 1965 exams had just finished and talk was of leaving school and getting out into the world to earn your living, in a climate of full employment. But before friends parted company for what was probable the last time it was decided to arrange a day out in what was the most sleaziest part of our capital city, an area that attracted allsorts even a ‘no it all’ group of schoolboys. In this truly vibrant area you would encounter young, and not so young, women hanging out of windows and doorway’s attempting to entice a randy group of young schoolboys to part with their pocket money, these wonderful ladies were kindly offering to do what they could to improve our minimal sexual experiences! Needless to say these kind offers were not taken up. But after being offered a group discount, well it was the middle of the afternoon; it was decided to visit what was fondly known in the parlance of the day as a strip joint.  It consisted of a small stage, some rows of uncomfortable chairs, mainly frequented by some dubious looking gentleman in cloth caps and long overcoats, and a small unlicensed tea and coffee bar at the rear where we sat with the girls while they waited to take there turn on the stage and remove a good portion of their skimpy garments to what seemed an endless recording of Roger Millers King of the Road. Incidentally you will not be surprised to learn that we had a great time, not because we got to look at naked ladies but it was the terrific banter we had with the girls who turned out to be not much older than we were. When the first stripper returned to the stage most of us took our leave, not wanting too much of a good thing! In December of the same year on a night out in Leicester Square, for a few drinks and something to eat, I met my future wife.

Jean dances with her ex-husband at Debbie's wedding.

It was this part of London that made Liverpool born Geoffrey Anthony Quinn, better known as Paul Raymond, a multi-millionaire and according to Michael Winterbottom latest movie The Look of Love (2013) he had a great deal of fun accumulating a vast fortune believed to be in the region of 650 million pounds. The film begins around 1958, when Raymond opened his first private members club, Raymond Revuebar Strip Club, in a former ballroom in Soho’s Walkers Court and ends with a family tragedy in 1992.  It tackles his marriage breakdown to Jean Bradley and his subsequent relationship with the infamous British sex symbol Fiona Richmond. We learn how he built up his glamour empire, Paul Raymond Publications and his Soho real estate portfolio. But the overriding subject of the film is Raymond’s profoundly loving relationship with his daughter Debbie to the detriment of a relationship with either his two sons. Winterbottom shows this in some detail and with great affection.

Paul snorts out his business empire with his daughter.

It’s a funny and highly entertaining movie that does not leave a lot to the imagination but does it inoffensively. Reflecting an era that had oodles of style it gets the detail just right and has a great soundtrack that echo’s the sounds of the day. Although Raymond was a complete sod, Steve Coogan’s wonderful portrayal made him into a human character, someone you help having a sneaking admiration for. As well as Coogan the film has a great cast including Anna Friel as Jean, Imogen Poots as Debbie and Tamsin Egerton as Fiona Richmond.

Fiona Richmond.