Harry Brown
May 13th 2010 04:16
Harry Brown (Michael Caine) is a wearied old soldier, an ex-Marine who served significant time in Northern Ireland. These days, his fiercest enemies have been reduced to internal demons. His unresponsive wife is clinging to life in a hospital bed whilst his best mate Len (David Bradley) is being tormented by monosyllabic, reprobate youths on his housing estate. A hearty pint and a game of chess at the pub constitute Harry’s day, his life now a morbidly protracted winding down process.
Then old Len takes on more than he can chew, erased from the earth like a certain brown stain from a scumbucket’s heel. Harry takes refuge in numbing his senses, in drinking himself into an unfit state. Anything can happen you’re in such a bad way. Lots of accidental things. It’s now the law of the jungle in Harry’s neck of the woods.
So with a flash of miraculous insight, fed by an unlearned instinct flooding back into his consciousness, he sets out on what will be a fateful course of action. A means of seeking retribution. not just for Len, but for everyone in the community forced live in the shadow of an intensifying malaise that threatens to devour human decency like a flood of acid.
Emily Mortimer has a thankless task as the sensitive D.I. Alice Frampton who firstly breaks the news of Len’s demise with such an absurdly contrite, pained expression and solemnly furrowed brow, that you’d swear it was her first day on the job. Her following scenes improve her standing in the film very little; it’s a useless, underwritten role with the depth of a sandblasted piece of toilet paper. Charlie Creed-Miles as her partner D.S. Hicock fares little better. He tries to inject a bit of humour into the situation, referring to a notification of the deceased as a ‘death-o-gram’. But this tasty morsel of gallows humour earns only a stern reply from Alice that warns of a formal retribution from on high for any repeat offence.
Harry Brown unfolds with the subtlety of a hailstorm of hammer blows. Though it’s admirably willing to wallow in society’s human refuse, the lack of any non-prejudicial shading ultimately dooms the film. That doesn’t entirely rule out an entertaining night out at the cinema however; after all, there’s perverse pleasure to be had in watching a doddering, embittered Jack Carter (or is it Harry Palmer?) emerging like a re-animated corpse through the mists of time to avenge the decades that dared to continue on without him. There’s a nasty twinkle in Harry’s eye once he gets a taste of that which is best served cold. His aged and wearied body is the perfect camouflage for the damage one man can inflict.
Is it all plausible? Or simply risible? Perhaps somewhere in between, for in watching an old man methodically take apart a gang of hoodlums for the truth that binds them to the death of his mate Len, you reach a point of depressing comprehension: watching this film is like eating hamburgers for breakfast - it’s nasty, stupid and bound to do you harm. And yet nothing tastes better than those first few bites.
Either way, Harry Brown, you deserve serious recognition.
And so, for your community-minded spirit: I salute you!
You brilliant old bastard.
Erasing pestilence from the kind of London streets that any decent man could once navigate without even needing to consider a detour to avoid perilous conversations with glistening knives.
How right you were to leave the Mortein, the hollow retorts, the respect-your-elders speechifying at home. Scum like this, they respect one thing, and one thing only: the look, the feel, the sound of a bullet.
God help us all Harry, society is crumbling. Ain’t it crystal clear. Falling into irreparable decay.
And the chief perpetrators? This new generation? A damn sight worse than any puny toe-rags The Bill could ever dredge up from the toxic swirls of sludge that spawned them. Neaderthal offspring. There’s not a speck of humanity alive in those tiny brains. The elemental reduced to the excremental.
And yet you did it, you old warrior bastard.
Outsmarted them all. Wise beyond years, you are.
Nothing counts more than experience in a real war zone. Absolutely nothing.
You’ve empowered us all Harry Brown.
Or Saint Harry as you’ll be known from this day forth.
Trailer is here.
Harry Brown is unleashed into Australian cinemas next Thursday, May 20.

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Comment by Matt Shea
Tehe - nice one, Dave.
I had some serious misgivings when I spotted the trailer for this one - it seemed like a very difficult concept to pull off whilst keeping the film balanced. It's just dropped down the list a couple of spots.
Comment by Bryn
Horrorphile
Excellent review David. Nicely channeled.
Comment by David O'Connell
20/20 Filmsight
Screen Fanatic
And I seriously couldn't believe how bad Emily Mortimer was in this. I've always quite liked her. But here, she keeps pulling these silly pained faces. And her boss/superior in the film is one of the most absurd and badly acted characters I've seen in ages too.
Bryn, it is indeed the once formidable and now quite berserk Mr. Carter with a few more decades on his frame!
Comment by Jason King
Sydney Table
Salty Popcorn
Total Randomness
Comment by JohnDoe
Film & TV on DVD
I imagine I will be entertained on a base level
Comment by Bryn
Horrorphile
Comment by David O'Connell
20/20 Filmsight
Screen Fanatic
Bryn, the bribes are enormous mate!
Comment by Anonymous
"like eating hamburgers for breakfast"
Masterpiece.