British Cinema: Le Donk and Scor-Zay-Zee (2009)

Tom Conran with his thoughts on an early screening in Sheffield and Q&A with Shane Meadows, Paddy Considine and Mark Herbert...


Le Donk and Scor-Zay-Zee (2009).

Directed by Shane Meadows.
Starring Paddy Considine, Dean Palinczuk and Olivia Coleman.


Shane Meadows and Paddy Considine reunite for the first time since Dead Man’s Shoes (2004) in this co –creation of a mocku-mentary style, micro budget, comedy movie. I was lucky enough to be present in the audience at the Showroom Cinema in Sheffield for an intimate, early screening of the film before its release into the U.K box office, and not just because my ticket didn’t cost me a penny. Le Donk and Scor-Zay-Zee was originally intended to be released straight onto DVD but the reaction it received at the Edinburgh Film Festival forced the production team to re-think their strategy. This was explained by Mark Herbert (Producer) who along with Meadows and Considine attended the screening for a Q&A afterwards, adding more glamour to the occasion. More on that later but first to the film itself.

Meadows’ acclaimed films to date are associated with being thought provoking pieces of social realism (This is England 2007, Somers Town 2008). Le Donk and Scor-Zay-Zee couldn’t possibly be any further away. The story follows the paths of Le Donk (Considine); an eccentric, crude, attention seeking roadie/‘musician manager’ and the oddly named, real life Nottingham rapper Scor-Zay-Zee (Dean Palinczuk) a shy yet talented, aspiring artist. Meadows and Herbert are also ever present in the film, playing themselves. The early stages are mainly focused around the carelessly extravagant Le Donk, including his general views on life (which are quite hilarious) and the complex situation of his own; his ex-girlfriend (Olivia Coleman) is about to give birth to his child but also has a new boyfriend. Apart from one extremely comical moment, Scor-Zay-Zee makes little input initially, mainly because he can’t get a word in next to Le Donk. Although he is generously hyped up by his ‘manager’ we are left in the dark as to Scor-Zay-Zee’s true capabilities as a lyricist.

On the surface, the main agenda of the film concerns Le Donk and Scor-Zay-Zee’s ambitious attempt to perform in front of thousands as a warm up act for the Arctic Monkeys, who also have a cameo role. As the story progresses, the mock rock-umentary reveals itself to be more of a character study on the complex personality of Le Donk. Le Donk is clearly jealous of his talented side kick, speaking over Scor-Zay-Zee in rehearsals with readings of random names (such as Worzel Gummidge) which although very funny are completely pointless. Le Donk continuously draws attention to himself and it becomes evident that he is holding Scor-Zay-Zee back. Despite protesting his significance, the film crew wonders what purpose Le Donk actually holds in the ‘double act’. I would stress to the reader not to be frightened off by descriptions such as ‘character study’ the film never feels like a deep exploration of inner demons and even the rare emotional moments are extremely amusing. Le Donk and Scor-Zay-Zee is silly, fun and fast paced, a tempo that is undoubtedly a result of the speed of its production (it was shot in five days).

The Q&A after the screening was just as entertaining as the film itself; the three men clearly share a common bond and comical perspective which is refreshing to see in modern cinema. Mark Herbert revealed that much of the production side of Le Donk and Scor-Zay-Zee was last minute and spontaneous; performing on stage before the Arctic Monkeys at a real life gig was not confirmed until very late on. Despite being quite ridiculous at times, the moderate authenticity of the production helps the film seem more believable; Olivia Coleman was actually pregnant during the filming and the baby used for the birth was actually her own. I say moderately authentic because the baby that had apparently just arrived was actually nine months old in real life, rather than being a hindrance, it’s exaggerations like this that enhance the films comedic value.

In my review of Somers Town I mentioned that the montage technique was an ever present device in the work of Shane Meadows, and low and behold it appeared numerously in Le Donk and Scor-Zay-Zee. After the Q&A in Sheffield I spoke with Shane Meadows himself and asked him why he used the montage technique so frequently. A down to earth and friendly man, his response was honest and humorous “In my early films, if things turned out crap I used it to cover up mistakes” - basically to paper over the cracks, not the answer I was expecting. At one point in the Q&A Paddy Considine stated “We wanted to have some fun, to do a film that we found funny, and didn’t care if other people liked it or not”. I can say safely say that most people won’t like Le Donk and Score-Zay-Zee, they will love it.

Tom Conran

Related:

British Cinema: Dead Man's Shoes (2004)
British Cinema: Somers Town (2008)
A Time to Belong - This is England and the subversion of the skinhead

British Cinema: Somers Town (2008)

Somers Town, 2008.

Directed by Shane Meadows.
Starring Thomas Turgoose and Piotr Jagiello.


SYNOPSIS:

Tomo (Thomas Turgoose) a homeless boy from the Midlands and Marek (Piotr Jagiello) a Polish immigrant come from completely different worlds. When they forge an unlikely friendship, they discover that despite their differences, they are very much alike.


Somers Town is another installment in the impressive list of director Shane Meadows' (This is England, Dead Man’s Shoes) creations. The location (London) is set with an opening montage, a technique which is now customary of Meadows films. Characteristic of films focused around the friendship of two unlikely comrades, the early stages of Somers Town switches between the contrasting situations of Tomo and Marek. Tomo has arrived in London with nowhere to stay and a few modest possessions. Tomo has been released from social care in Nottingham, leaving behind no friends or family, he is completely alone in this dangerous city. Marek lives with his father but in many respects suffers the same isolation that Tomo does. Marek’s father is a hard working builder, whose life revolves around drinking with his friends and showing off his strength. This intense masculine environment is clearly something that Marek, a quiet, thoughtful and sensitive boy struggles to relate to. Marek is more interested in photography, and life’s simple beauties.

After Tomo is brutally assaulted and robbed, a kind woman buys him breakfast at a café; this is where he meets Marek. On the surface Tomo is the opposite to Marek; cheeky, demanding and seedy, so it was inevitable that he would have to make the first move if these two were ever to become friends. Tomo’s in your face attitude is somewhat alien to Marek but after a brief misunderstanding they quickly make up and the foundations to a friendship are laid (as is often the case with young boys). One of the strongest themes in the film is companionship, or more specifically a lack of companionship, the latter being the reason for Marek’s immediate trustworthy attitude towards Tomo. Marek allows Tomo to stay with him, although he keeps this secret from his father.

Despite Marek and Tomo’s many differences, one thing they certainly have in common is their infatuation with a beautiful French waitress called Maria. At first their rivalry for her attention is a source of conflict, but it soon becomes the glue that bonds them together. Their attempts to please Maria are slightly unorthodox but at the same time very unique, in one instance they push her all the way home in an abandoned wheelchair. Although their obsession with Maria appears to be one of lust (especially for Tomo) it is partly fuelled by a lack of a mother, or source of female warmth in their lives. This notion is exemplary of one of the many similarities between Tomo and Marek, which become ever more transparent as the film progresses; a lack of camaraderie, boredom, curiosity, a failure to understand their position in life and most importantly of all, their burning desire for friendship.

When first viewing the film I felt the ending (which like the beginning is summerised with Meadows' usual montage technique) was rather abrupt, the film is only 68 minutes long. I pondered whether or not there could have potentially been another half an hour in the screenplay. In the end I came to the conclusion that the inevitable did not require dragging out, and although the montage was slightly predictable in the sense it was shot in colour (contrasted to the rest of the film which is in black and white) it was an appropriate resolution. The film contains all the feel good factors of a cheesey rom-com, yet the witty (and sometimes very crude) humour, heartwarming characters and subtle representation of life’s harsh realities makes Somers Town a clever piece of social realism.

Tom Conran

Related:

British Cinema: Dead Man's Shoes (2004)
British Cinema: Le Donk & Scor-zay-zee (2009)
A Time to Belong - This is England and the subversion of the skinhead

British Cinema: Raining Stones (1993)

Raining Stones, 1993.

Directed by Ken Loach.
Starring Bruce Jones, Ricky Tomlinson and Julie Brown.


SYNOPSIS:

Bob Williams (Bruce Jones) is an honest grafter stuck on the dole, constantly trying to grab hold of any bit of work that comes his way. When Bob refuses to accept second best for his daughter’s Holy Communion, he becomes in danger of losing more than his pride.


Raining Stones follows the paths of Bob Williams (Bruce Jones) and Tommy (Ricky Tomlinson) in their never-ending search to put bread on the table and keep their heads above water. Signing on and jumping from one piece of cash-in-hand work to the other, Bob and Tom are struggling to make ends meet. Regardless of this they are honest, cheerful people who try to make the best of what they’ve got and see the funny side of life, even though for Bob and Tom it tends to involve the muckiest of tasks. The film opens with Bob and Tom trespassing on someone’s land trying to catch a sheep, humorously struggling to do so. They return to Manchester with a solitary sheep for their troubles. The local butcher agrees to kill the sheep and chop it up for them if Bob agrees to install his brand new fireplace. This tit-for-tat agreement is a testament to the manner in which this deprived community survives in troubled times. The theme of communities pulling together is a subject area which Loach often explores.

When Bob’s van is stolen just before his daughter Coleen's Holy Communion, he loses out on two days scaffolding work and some much needed cash. In spite of this, Bob will only have the best for his daughter no matter the cost. Bob’s determination is exemplary of another strong undercurrent in the film, working class pride. Despite being on the dole Bob gets up every morning searching for work to provide for his family. No matter how bad things get Bob always has a strong sense of dignity and refuses to accept the new age of casual drug use and broken family values that has crept up on him. Although Raining Stones is set in the early 90’s these aspects of social decline remain relevant in today’s society.

Raining Stones is kitchen sink realism at its very best, another beautifully executed representation of the northern working class society by Ken Loach. A device which makes Loach’s films so engaging is the manner in which he creates a sense of realism for every character in the film, even if they are only on screen for a second. When Bob is waiting at the dole office we briefly hear the troubles of a single mother and the rundown apartment she is bringing up her children in. On every occasion where Loach includes these subtleties they are effortlessly naturalistic, adding to the collective feeling that the whole community is suffering together without trying to force their way into the plot. Characteristically of films which contain strong connotations of northern working class pride, community and determination, there is a clear sense of anti-Conservatism in Raining Stones. Among the occasional Bureaucratic jibes, a comical scene where Bob and Tom do a job for a dodgy landscaper stealing turf right off the lawn of a Conservative social club denotes a small victory for the working class over the establishment.

An often overlooked creation in the long list of Loach’s social masterpieces, Raining Stones is a rough diamond of a film.

Tom Conran

British Cinema: The Maggie (1954)

The Maggie, 1954.

Directed by Alexander Mackendrick.
Starring Alex Mackenzie, Paul Douglas and Tommy Kearins.


SYNOPSIS:

An old run-down puffer boat the ‘Maggie’ carries a loveable yet reckless reputation, only surpassed by her crafty old master Captain Mactaggart. When Mactaggart gets hold of an expensive cargo by chance, their journey ahead will be anything but plain sailing.


The Maggie is a forgotten gem in the long list of Ealing Studios' classic movies, made in an era commonly regarded as the ‘Golden Age’ of British Cinema. The infectious storyline reels the viewer in immediately when the ‘Maggie’ pulls into harbour at Glasgow. The coast guards speak of her cunning master Captain Mactaggart and the recent trouble he found himself in. The Maggie’s engineer warns Mactaggart they should have arrived in Glasgow at night to avoid being caught by Mactaggart’s sister Sarah, the rightful owner of the archaic puffer. Mactaggart responds in his usual relaxed manner, “they will never come looking for us in the day, they won’t expect it.” An air of mischief and trickery surrounds the Captain and the Maggie herself. This notion of harmless misbehavior is the spine that runs through the entire film.

Additionally in this scene Mactaggart bellows instructions at Dougy (Tommy Kearins) the ship’s boy, who follows orders with no resentment whatsoever. Dougy’s obedience is exemplary of one the strongest themes in the film; loyalty. The boy is totally committed to the Captain and the Maggie, no matter how harshly he is treated. Even when Mactaggart (who is also prone to an afternoon pint or two) leaves the boy to pay for his drinks, Dougy literally fights a man defending his Captain’s name.

Mactaggart is on the verge of having his beloved ship shut down when he tricks the incompetent Pusey into entrusting him with an expensive cargo owned by American transport tycoon Calvin B. Marshall (Paul Douglas). The Maggie is barely in a fit enough state to carry her crew, let alone a cargo worth thousands of pounds, but Pusey mistakes a well-kept ship for the Maggie. Mactaggart is only too happy to go along with this fortunate mix up “it seems there’s been a wee bit of a misunderstanding” he says with a cheeky smile. As well as highlighting the warmly deceiving nature of the Captain, these two incidents reveal another one of his many traits; he is an opportunist.

When the cargo’s owner Marshall tries to track down the Maggie and retrieve his cargo, a hilarious game of cat and mouse begins. Mactaggart pulls out bluff after bluff and even when Marshall personally boards the Maggie, Mactaggart uses his wit, lovable smile and any opportunity he gets to keep the cargo on board. Another strong undercurrent of The Maggie is tradition against modernization; The Maggie being a symbol of tradition struggling to cope with Marshall and the demands of modern shipping. Marshall is also a compelling character and a likeable person, but he is someone who is not at peace with himself. Marshall intends to bring the cargo to his brand new holiday home in attempt to rekindle his strained marriage. Under the surface of Marshall’s predicament there is a sense of materialism (the cargo) being at odds with the more important things in life, such as seeing your loved ones and being content with yourself

The Maggie is a beautiful blend of charismatic characters, witty humour and an engaging storyline. In an age where blockbuster movies with over-the-top special effects and weak storylines dominate the box office, it is reassuring to watch a film with a truly original screenplay. Mactaggart, Dougy and Marshall are three of the strongest characters I have ever seen in a film, whilst The Maggie’s underlying themes are tactfully executed without being forced upon the viewer. During a particular scene a journalist describes the old puffer boats as a “national treasure” and personally I could not think of a more appropriate way to describe The Maggie.

Tom Conran

British Cinema - Scum (1979)

Scum, 1979.

Directed by Alan Clarke.
Starring Ray Winstone, Mick Ford, Julian Firth and Phil Daniels.


SYNOPSIS:

When Carlin (Ray Winstone) is sent to a Borstal young offenders institute carrying a hard man reputation he is pushed to the limit by wild inmates and cruel officers to uphold it. In this brutal concrete jungle it’s every man for himself and Borstal against them all.


“The film they tried to ban”, and for a couple of years the government successfully did so. Scum was originally made for the BBC’s ‘Play for Today’ in 1977 but was deemed too horrific to broadcast. Two years later director Alan Clarke and writer Roy Minton remade Scum as a movie. Although one could frown at the prudishness of the BBC in their attempt to discard a truly groundbreaking film, one can also understand the cautious approach they applied to dealing with such a controversial and damaging representation of the Borstal system.

The opening scenes show Carlin arriving at the institute with two other inmates; Davis (Julian Firth), a fragile looking character and Angel (Alrick Riley), a young black man. When Carlin meets with the officers (or “screws” to the inmates), they speak of Carlin’s tough reputation as the ‘daddy’ at his previous institute, including assault on an officer. The officer then beats Carlin and forces him to submit and repeat his name and number. The dehumanization of the inmates by referring to them merely as numbers and the sadistic methods of discipline are just some of the daily customs carried out by the ‘screws’.

By no coincidence Carlin is put in a dormitory with the current daddy Pongo Banks (John Bundell), and the officers encourage Pongo to let Carlin know that he’s the daddy. When Carlin meets the extravagant Archer (Mick Ford) for the first time he is unsure of his sanity. Archer is a witty and learned young man, and a constant nuisance to the establishment. Archer refuses to wear leather boots due to being a strict vegetarian and walks around with bare feet. Archer reveals that there is a method to his madness “I want to cause as much trouble as I can, in my own little way”.

Although Carlin’s reputation is mentioned continuously, for the first half of the film he does not rise to it. Carlin fails to defend himself when Pongo and his two side kicks Richards (Phil Daniels) and Eckersley (Ray Burdis) viciously assault him in the middle of the night. Carlin takes his beating, keeps his mouth shut and waits for the right moment to strike. When Carlin finally makes his move he does so with devastating effect; assaulting Richards with a sock filled with pool balls and then jumping Pongo when he has back turned in the bathroom, making him the daddy. After defeating Pongo Carlin begins to reveal the nastier side of his personality. He savagely beats an unarmed rival daddy with a metal pole after meeting for an arranged fight then barrages him with racist profanities. Carlin makes these racial slurs more frequently after he has become the daddy.

In my review of Get Carter I mentioned that Jack Carter and Carlin where similar characters in the sense that they are both corrupt heroes. In Scum you tend to feel more sympathy for Carlin then you do for Jack in Get Carter because of the vindictive nature of the officers and the unforgiving Borstal system itself, coupled with the fact that Carlin has barely reached manhood. That said, Carlin still reveals himself to be a cold hearted and malicious character.

Scum is a powerful piece of social realism which graphically reveals the corruption of the Borstal system and identifies it’s failings as a place of rehabilitation for troubled young men. Archer emphasises this notion when speaking with an officer - “How can anyone build a character in a regime based on deprivation? Good, fine minds thrown in with crazy people”. The lack of inspiration in the institute is subconsciously expressed through the soundtrack to the film, in the sense that there is no soundtrack at all. Music is a luxury of life, a thing of beauty, the fact that there is no music being played for the majority of the film symbolises the inmate’s isolation from the outside world and their loss of human privileges.

Although the brutality and almost Neanderthal behaviour of the inmates is intensely examined, it is the unmerciful cruelty of the ‘screws’ that is the most disturbing aspect of Scum. In a scene that that will make your stomach turn, as poor Davis is raped by three inmates, officer Sands watches the incident taking place and smiles sadistically. Additionally, the racist nature of the ‘screws’ is just as alarming and is used to reveal the racism that runs through the veins of the establishment. Scum remains one of the most shockingly brutal films ever made and effectively bought an end to the Borstal system in England.

Tom Conran

British Cinema - Get Carter (1971)

Get Carter, 1971.

Directed by Mike Hodges.
Starring Michael Caine, Ian Hendry, John Osborne, and Britt Ekland.


SYNOPSIS:

Jack Carter (Michael Caine), a classy but brutal criminal, travels to Newcastle from London in an attempt to find out the real cause behind the suspicious death of his brother. As the sinister facts behind his brother’s death begin to unfold, so does Jack’s aggressive and corrupt personality.


Get Carter has been described as “a landmark British thriller” and “Britain’s most hard hitting and stylish gangster movie.” You would be hard pushed to find someone who has watched the film that wouldn’t back these statements up. The film begins with Jack Carter standing alone by a window with very little light exposing him. The sound of a sinister wind blowing and the now iconic slow, repetitive music composed by Roy Budd creates an instant dreary feeling. A group of smartly dressed gangsters flick through pornographic images while a beautiful woman named Anna (Britt Ekland) is obviously uncomfortable as criminal boss and partner Gerald Fletcher (Terence Rigby) rubs his hand along her thigh. This indicates the perversion and the sordid sexual activity that will be ever present in the film. The way that Anna and Jack look at each other gives a subtle insight into their relationship. Jack plans to travel up to Newcastle to conduct his own personal investigation into the suspicious death of his brother. He is warned not to go by Gerald - “things could get messy” - an understatement of what later occurs. When told by Gerald “the police said it was suicide”, Jack responds “since when was that good enough?” - a lovely little indication that these men operate outside of the law.

When Jack reaches Newcastle he questions those who knew his brother, including local mobsters, in attempt to uncover more details about his apparent suicide. Jack becomes increasingly frustrated when he can sense that something is being hidden from him. As the plot unfolds, Jack’s approach to revealing the facts becomes less diplomatic. This aggressive strategy from Jack is in some part fuelled by the discovery that his niece had been pushed into the illegal porn industry by those who had claimed to be friends of his brother. Jack brutally murders his rivals; stabbing one behind the back of a betting shop and throwing another off the top of a car park. The grim location of these murders adds to the sleazy interior of the film.

Get Carter serves as an exemplary specimen of the typical British ‘gritty’ crime genre. The film’s slow, yet brooding pace and dark tone are superbly executed, from the film’s visual and aural aesthetic to Caine’s performance as the vengeful gangster Jack Carter. Despite the bleak, sinister feeling that surrounds Get Carter, the absorbing storyline coupled with Caine’s captivating screen presence and charisma provides an engaging spectacle from start to finish. Throughout the film a question frequently repeats itself in my head; is Jack Carter, the so called hero of the film, any better than the ‘villains’ he pursues? The answer is a resounding no. As well as viciously dispatching other mobsters, Jack’s treatment of women throughout the film is particularly disturbing. He assaults two women and murders one of them to set up gang boss Cyril Kinnear (Osborne). Jack is a great example of the protagonist also being the antagonist, something not uncommon in British films. Another example of where this type of character exists is Alan Clarke’s Scum (1979), where Carlin (Ray Winstone) horrifically fights his way to the top of the Borstal youth system. In both Get Carter and Scum the idea is portrayed that these ‘heroes’ have to conduct themselves in such a manner in order to survive in the corrupt worlds they live in. Even so, at times it becomes very difficult to feel sympathy for Jack.

Get Carter is a timeless British classic which explores the criminal underworld of the illegal pornography industry that existed in 1960’s Britain with explicit brutality and graphic realism. Yet the classy, composed and stylish manner that this examination is carried out in, accompanied by Caine’s breathtaking performance, results in Get Carter being simply unmissable.

Tom Conran