The Lawless Heart
Sight and Sound review, by John Mount
If Alan Ayckbourn were to appropriate the structure of Quentin
Tarantino's Pulp Fiction, the result might bear a passing resemblance to this,
Neil Hunter and Tom Hunsinger's second feature film (the first was the micro-budgeted
Boyfriends). That's meant as a compliment. The film hinges on a superb opening
scene at a funeral reception. Beautifully understated and delightfully unclear,
it pitches the audience straight into the lives of three mourners, Nick, Tim
and Dan. The film-makers then depict the post-funeral events from the perspective
of each of these three to create a rich picture of the effects of sudden death
on a man's nearest and dearest.
If the rest of the film never quite manages to match the acutely observed humour
of Bill Nighy's portrayal of married middle-aged farmer Dan's faltering flirtation
with an attractive Frenchwoman, it nevertheless draws a consistently witty and
heartfelt portrait of contemporary British lives. There are no remarkable insights
into death or mourning, no startling denouements, but the film brims with emotional
intelligence. Perhaps the directors' smartest decision was to start the story
at the point at which most disease-of-the-week television movies end: after
a death.
Each of the characters is treated even-handedly: their weaknesses and contradictions
are simply shown and, as the plot loops back on itself, filling in missing details
and revealing different perspectives, their experiences become all the more
resonant. The directors display a confident knowledge of the emotional and geographical
topography of the story, and the combination of good, believable dialogue and
a well-chosen cast leads to exemplary ensemble acting throughout. Director of
Photography Sean Bobbitt (who worked on the similarly engaging Wonderland) parallels
the shifts in the storyline with distinctive camera styles to portray the viewpoints
of each of the three main characters. Tracking shots give way to static shots
and finally to juddering handheld camerawork as the narrative advances, but
Bobbitt uses the strategy with restraint.
As a consequence Lawless Heart's meticulously interwoven narrative has a layered
coherence. The structure and content work for rather than against each other.
Occasionally it all feels too tightly conceived: the use of the female characters
as catalysts to propel the emotional fortunes of the three main males is perhaps
one structural troika too many. That said, Ellie Haddington and Sukie Smith
in particular do a lot with their roles as Judy and Charlie.
For the most part the film conveys a lyrical sense of shifts in time and fortune
amid memorable Essex coastal locations. Many scenes reverberate with small moments
of recognition and unforced gestures, remarks or actions. One hopes for a little
more asymmetry in the directors' next film but, for the time being, here is
a modest and optimistic answer to all who have of late bemoaned the lack of
small, intelligent British films.