Review: Bronson
How do you make a film about one of the most documented delinquent characters in the British penal system? Turn it into an interpretive theatrical extravaganza. And that's just what director Nicolas Winding Refn does in the Fantastic Fest hit Bronson.
Charlie Bronson, who's earned the epithet of most violent/famous/expensive prisoner in the UK penal system, has more character than most 10 people put together. And he knows it. Looking at a list of the man's escapades, with violence and ridiculous demands, it make sense to turn the story into an absurdist commentary on the cult of celebrity and the addiction to fame. Raised as Michael Gordon Peterson, Bronson is his own most ardent devotee in the temple of his own celebrity. He's brash, sly, and oddly vulnerable at times as portrayed by Tom Hardy, seen last year as Handsome Bob in Guy Ritchie's RocknRolla. Only this time, Hardy isn't so much handsome as he is a formidable presence, who can't conceive of a world where his wishes aren't met. Hardy's performance is literally and figuratively powerhouse, and it's impossible to look away. Yet for all the barely contained ferocity he emits as Bronson, he can be as vulnerable and uncertain as he is scary.
It's mesmerizing to watch this characterization that is as sympathetic as condemning, with strains of A Clockwork Orange as society tries to tame the not so proverbial beast. Bronson is so primal, he frequently grunts and growls and is unashamedly unclothed for large portions of the film, and it's hard not to sympathize when he's subjected to all manner of restraints. The paradoxes are intentional, as Bronson revels in 'hotel' life.
The likely controversy for Bronson in American cinemas is the blatant nudity. Unlike American films, British cinema is not averse to full-frontal nudity in either sex. There might be about three square inches of Hardy's skin that doesn't get displayed on film in Bronson, and that only because of physiology and gravity. Also unlike nudity in American films, it's not gratuitous, and drives the story, and drives home the feral qualities of Bronson's personality.
It's hard not to compare Bronson with Chopper, another movie about a larger-than-life convict. The two would make a great double bill, but they're stylistically different. Director Winding Refn's film is more interpretive than the "don't let the truth get in the way of a good story" film that is Andrew Dominik's Chopper.
While Bronson is a biopic, it's equally an interpretive commentary about the barely contained celebrity ambitions of contemporary society. These theatrical interludes allows Hardy to really shine, particularly with his voice, as Bronson the storyteller. He prances and preens, hams it up, with a thuggish demeanor, growling and shouting, as if he can come through the screen and beat you to a pulp if you don't demonstrate proper appreciation.