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Perrier's Bounty
Popshifter.com
14 September 2009
By The Automatik
This is an advance Popshifter.com review exclusive to The CillianSite, courtesy of the author, our former contributing editor.
Criss- and double-crosses, lyrical-yet-unpretentious dialogue, and the black comedy of desperation crown the new film by Irish director Ian Fitzgibbon in Perrier's Bounty, starring Cillian Murphy, Jim Broadbent, Jodie Whittaker, and Brendan Gleeson. If you liked 2003's sardonic ensemble piece Intermission, also scripted by Mark O'Rowe, you'll adore Perrier's Bounty, though it's decidedly darker, more violent, and more compact.
The film is most successful when the established tone of a scene takes a sharp right turn; its luster is only dimmed slightly by one convoluted plot device involving a hysterical female farmer. Overall, Perrier's Bounty is an exhilarating ride that will have you laughing, gasping, and maybe even feeling a tug on your heart or a tear in your eye, often all of these during one scene.
Murphy plays Michael McCrea, a scruffy ne'er-do-well, who has a mere 24 hours to pay back a debt to the notorious local gangster Darren Perrier, or else. A seemingly omniscient narrator, acting as an emcee of sorts, introduces us to Michael, who is disheveled, hungover, and not entirely sympathetic. He is obviously (and literally) lying in the bed he's made for himself, as much as a mattress on the floor can be "made," that is.
Absentee father Jim (Broadbent) shows up in the midst of Michael's crisis, insisting upon having a serious chat about his own supposedly serious problems. And then there's Brenda (Whittaker), Michael's neighbor and friend. Michael knows her boyfriend is a wanker; he just can't seem to make Brenda believe it. As Michael is leaving his flat in an attempt to save his own ass, he runs into her. She seems happy and he doesn't want to harsh her mellow (or come across as a wanker himself), so he plays down his problems. Right there, we realize there is more to Michael McCrea.
If you blink, you might miss the nuances of the potential romantic tension between the Murphy and Whittaker. Their chemistry develops slowly, but naturally, although it's fairly obvious that they're destined to get together at some point. But this isn't a typical Hollywood movie and nothing in Perrier's Bounty is quite what it seems. First that is the mysterious, unseen narrator. He seems to know a lot about what's going on, but how and why? Then there's the script. O'Rowe has a knack for making imperfect characters come to Technicolor life by relying not on clichés, but human foibles. The payoffs, when they come, are met with cheers and applause, not groans and eye-rolling.
As Jim, Broadbent is full of such cliché-busting foibles. He looks like a mess, sporting four-day-old stubble and spouting rambling soliloquies that seem like nonsense. Jim's tale of encountering of a supernatural being who insists upon being "enigmatic and obscure" because "that's me way, man" delights Brenda, but obviously and thoroughly annoys Michael, and we assume that perhaps the entire family is just a bunch of dysfunctional losers.
Yet, both Michael and Jim prove to be surprisingly quick-witted, flouting the law and common sense, with a hearty helping of shocking physical toughness. Rounding out this motley trio is Brenda, who wreaks further havoc on Michael's already-precarious existence during a heartbreak-induced bender. But if you think she's just a helpless female who needs saving (even as she claims to be past such redemption), you'd be wrong.
Director Fitzgibbon might have worried he was taking a gamble with his casting choices, but it's one that has paid off spectacularly. Cillian Murphy appears ragged, but endearingly so; he's physically tough, without being macho or boorish. Despite the fact that he is in imminent danger of getting at least one limb snapped, he ends up snapping, putting the smackdown on Brenda's philandering, lying boyfriend. Maybe boys beating each other up isn't cool, but when a woman's honor is at stake? We like it.
Those who think Cillian Murphy can only play creepy will once again be proven wrong. His subtle shifts in facial expression are superlative in conveying the humanity beneath his would-be-cool exterior. When Jim reveals his rather serious problems, Murphy's face transforms into that of a wide-eyed child; he seems genuinely stunned, even though we suspect there might some exaggeration on Jim's part. And when Jim tells the truth of why Michael hasn't seen him in months, Murphy's wounded but guarded face fills the screen. He might not want us to know he has a heart, but those eyes give it all away. It's not just his toughness or tenderness that punches you in the gut. His comic timing is impressive, both effective and affecting. He's legitimately funny, but not stand-up-comedian-funny, more like the real-life funny of someone you might actually know.
The father-son chemistry between Murphy and Broadbent is palpable: they might look unkempt, but they redeem themselves in unexpected ways that prove the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.
Then there's Gleeson as the titular character. We don't even meet him until the end, but his presence looms large throughout, and not just because of the title of the film. Gleeson is by turns hilariously funny then disturbingly scary, and always thoroughly brilliant.
Cinematically, there is much to praise here. Fitzgibbon uses music effectively but not obnoxiously. There are lots of close-ups which obscure off-camera action until it's a surprise to both the characters and the audience. The punches are loud, the gunshots are deafening, and the vicious dogs are terrifying. Yet, like so much else in Perrier's Bounty, they are not what they seem, either.
Like the film's unseen narrator, who remains all knowing but unknown until the very end, I don't want to reveal more details and risk spoiling the many delights of Bounty's terrifically entertaining adventure. As the narrator himself remarks, sometimes it's better to be "enigmatic and obscure." Because that's me way, man—that's me way.
