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 In cinemas Thursday Apr 29 [MA15+]
Director: Malcom Venville
Runtime: 95 minutes
I’m going to start this review off with a warning: if you have a hard time with profanity, 44 Inch Chest may not be the film for you. Even if you’re familiar with the British fondness for swear words of a gynaecological nature, and with the writing team of Louis Mellis and David Scinto, whose previous credits include the operatically foul-mouthed Sexy Beast – you’re still in for a bracing viewing experience. In addition to the language, some more delicate critics have expressed outrage at the surface-level misogyny of the film, whose testosterone-drenched plot involves a group of middle-aged wide-boys and their bloody revenge against the younger man who’s been screwing one of their wives. If that all sounds too much for you, then fair play, but I found 44 Inch Chest to be one of the most intriguing and satisfying films so far this year.
The cuckold in question is Colin Diamond (Ray Winstone). When we meet Colin, he’s at a low point, sobbing on the floor of his smashed-up condo to a soundtrack of cheesy ‘70s soft rock. When he calls his nearest and dearest with news of his wife’s infidelity, they rally around to do what any friends would do – kidnap her young lover and lock him in a cupboard in an abandoned warehouse. Most of the film takes place in this single room, and thus relies on the strength of the cast for suspense. Fortunately, with Ian McShane, John Hurt, Tom Wilkinson and Stephen Dillane in the mix as Colin’s friends, you’re guaranteed some breathtakingly scary performances. Wilkinson is a little under-utilised as nice-guy Archie, but the rest are outstanding, including McShane as viciously smooth gay man Meredith.
44 Inch Chest is a film about misogyny – about a group of men who, feeling threatened and emasculated, lash out at women – but it is not a misogynist film. The script keeps you at a distance from the players, and at various points, including a flashback scene where Colin lashes out at his wife, leaves you justifiably horrified at their actions. They’re not nice guys, but they’re not meant to be. The only time this clever film threatens to go off the rails is a sequence at the end, where the narrative goes inside Colin’s head – The Sopranos used to do great things with this kind of dream logic, but director Malcolm Venville can’t quite figure out how to stage it. This and some questionable camera-work aside, though, 44 Inch Chest is a tough, thought-provoking film.
****
ALASDAIR DUNCAN
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