Tagged neo-Nazi

Green Room: The Fallacy of White Nationalist Unity in Violent Awe

Green Room. 2016. Directed & Written by Jeremy Saulnier.
Starring Anton Yelchin, Patrick Stewart, Joe Cole, Alia Shawkat, Callum Turner, David W. Thompson, Mark Webber, Macon Blair, Eric Edelstein, Michael Draper, Andy Copeland, Brent Werzner, Lj Klink, Kasey Brown, Taylor Tunes, & Imogen Poots.
Film Science/Broad Green Pictures.
Rated 14A. 95 minutes.
Crime/Horror/Thriller

★★★★1/2
POSTER Jeremy Saulnier blew the majority of us away wildly with his downhome revenge flick Blue Ruin, a story that takes revenge out of the hands of men with particular sets of skills and an almost invincible superheroness before placing it in the hands of regular people, those who aren’t skilled or experienced with weapons, murder, or anything of the like. The whole thing was an exercise in spectacular acting, directing, and writing, all combining to make Saulnier’s talent undeniable.
Going with another contained, small plot, Saulnier now gives us Green Room – the story of a punk band named The Ain’t Rights, consisting of Pat (Anton Yelchin), Reece (Joe Cole), Sam (Alia Shawkat), and Tiger (Callum Turner), who end up trapped in a backwoods music venue after one of them witnesses a horrific killing and at the mercy of a gang of neo-Nazis led by the quietly explosive Darcy (Patrick Stewart). Similar to his previous directorial effort, Saulnier shows us a slice of real life. For all its wild elements, Green Room feels honest. It gives us the world of a punk band and juxtaposes their freedom/fun loving lifestyle with that of some real, serious, scary dudes whose lifestyle is anything but loving, in any way.
But perhaps my favourite element? While the friends in the band, as well as club regular Amber (Imogen Poots), all band together in unity, the supposedly strong group of white nationalists does the opposite and starts crumbling within. Amongst all the suspense and tension, in between the bloody bits of horror and the deepening criminal aspects of the screenplay, there’s a great comment on the nature of these neo-Nazi groups, how they’re only bound together by a collective feeling of being lost and that there’s nothing really keeping them glued. And that their ideology, for some, is a thin veil. Once the blood starts flowing, for some of these guys, the less committed to their ’cause’, all bets are off.
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Something I love is that Saulnier is able to capture the life of the band so well. From the gig posters to the slumming on the road to the sticky situations they find themselves in. Even the little jokes amongst the band and their respective personalities all make these characters feel genuine. I’ve played in bands since I was about 13 years old. Never went on a tour, though we did travel a few times throughout the years with a couple of the different ones I was in, both singing and playing guitar, sometimes only one or the other. And the feel of this band is super honest. They remind me of myself, of people I knew while playing, of promoters and fellow musicians and the people out of the community. So when they first step into the world of the neo-Nazi group and their club it’s more than just culture shock, you feel a palpable air of danger. You feel afraid for these people. More than that they have the balls to play a song by the Dead Kennedys with a chorus that goes something like this: “Nazi punks, nazi punks, nazi punks fuck off!” So further than feeling any fear, you also get the idea that these are immature young people colliding with a world of which they have no real clue. Much like many of us would say these white nationalist types are a bunch of idiots, likely inbred and whatever else, this band doesn’t respect the fact these are serious, dangerous people. The writing of the characters and the setup of the burgeoning intensity of what they’re about to experience is what makes the film so strong immediately. Within twenty minutes you’re not simply interested in the characters, their band, as well as the creepy neo-Nazis circling around them, you also land right in the boiling pot and sitting in the hot seat with our reluctant protagonists.
A little bit I loved – when the band and Amber decide to try fighting their way out, before they do everyone recounts their truthful Desert Island Band: Reece says Prince, Sam says Simon & Garfunkel, Tiger sticks with The Misfits (good lad), Pat still can’t answer, and Amber joins in with Madonna and Slayer. Awesome moment that was so well placed, so well written. An amazing, brief scene.
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All the way through I enjoyed the cinematography, courtesy of Sean Porter. In the early scenes there are some moments of beautiful Malick-like nature shots, particularly when the band is pushing their van out of the field into which it ploughed the night before. But all the interior stuff is great, too. When we move into the various locations the band moves through on their journey there’s a dark and edgy quality that makes you feel as if you’re gradually being sucked into oblivion. Inside the white nationalist punk club there’s a fog-like, hazy atmosphere that you can almost smell and touch. It makes you feel as if you’ve walked right into hell. For instance, as The Ain’t Rights play away, rocking out, there’s a horde of white supremacists moshing, their symbols and insignia waving around like banners in the crowd, and it’s a simultaneously gorgeous and eerie sight to those few moments.
And then there’s the violence. Oh boy. I’ve seen some nasty, gory shit in my time; 4,200 films deep, about 1/3 of those horror. But Green Room‘s brand of violent, criminal horror is exciting because there are two elements at play: the band (though punks they represent pacifists who are only inclined to defend themselves against violence) v. the white supremacists (these guys use violence for fun and to subdue those they feel are threats or obviously are different than them). So what I find great is that the band, these mostly peaceful people who just want to rage onstage with their music, is put in a position where they’re forced to go a violent route in order to save themselves, and literally to save their lives. Instead of some kind of revenge-style thriller where we see a bunch of people do violence against neo-Nazis, Saulnier allows us to indulge in the revenge movie tropes without having this sort of preachy element where he’s saying “Look how these white people are better than the hateful ones” and effectively allows us to indulge in that scenario without pandering too much to the saviour in us moviegoers. Furthermore, it’s funny I’ve seen a review state that while the movie has good backwoods horror elements that are actually well executed, there’s a lack of human element within the screenplay. I found exactly the opposite. Quickly, we almost feel like the 5th member of The Ain’t Rights, and once that first act of violence (we actually only see the aftermath of that one) comes down there’s a terrible sense of watching people we care for already in a terrifying situation.
Some bloody highlights: Pat gets his arm torn apart while trying to hold the door closed in the greem room, looking like an actual wound from an ER photo; the arm break on Big Justin (Eric Edelstein) looks so nastily real before Amber opens him up like a deer, also awfully realistic. Later when the band starts escaping and they’re each subjected to different methods of violence, there are a number of gritty scenes that come down and shock you; not because of the blood or gore, but rather these moments are cloaked in darkness, the ugliness concealed just beneath. In their distinct ways every scene containing bloody action comes off with an awe all its own.
My favourite? When Daniel (Mark Webber) is behind the bar, that entire sequence is absolute insanity – that’s all I’ll say, for those who’ve not yet seen the film.
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Green Room is a fantastic dose of crime-thriller mixed with backwoods horror, on top of that using minimal locations – mainly the punk club – to bring maximum suspense and tension to the forefront. There’s a great screenplay, first and foremost, which Saulnier crafts wonderfully. Though the band is the focus of everything, the disintegration of the white supremacists is key to the plot. Because, as I said in the intro, The Ain’t Rights and Amber, and Daniel later, come together as one, a unified whole; without any extremist ideology backing them, but only the desire to survive against extremists. On the opposite side are the white nationalists, led by Darcy, who are dishonest with one another, hiding secrets and true intention, and eventually they come to a point where their own ranks disintegrate because of their lack of unity. So, yes, this is an enjoyable piece of nasty horror that plays well in the world of genre film, but it also has things to say, it isn’t all about extreme violence and the ugly world of neo-Nazis.
Under everything, Green Room is a taut and exciting thriller that feels different than most of the other similar films out there. Saulnier proves once again he’s able to take something familiar, turn it into his own vision, and keep us interested in the underbelly of American culture – that one where bloodshed, violence, murder plays out in forgotten places, where human life is disposable, where the will to survive is only trumped by the gruesome passion to kill. Moreover, Saulnier exposes the brotherhood of white supremacy, not by making fun or mocking. He opens up the idea of white nationalism and its idea of brotherhood and unity by showing how easily it falls apart under pressure; where you’re only as good as your last murder, otherwise you’re only taking up space. Up against a group of punk rockers inexperienced in the ways of violence, these neo-Nazis discover music keeps people together far better than any right-wing (or ultra-left) ideology ever could. At the same time, those same rockers ultimately must become just like those violent extremists in order to make it out alive.

American History X and the Consequences of White Hot Hatred

American History X. 1998. Directed by Tony Kaye. Screenplay by David McKenna.
Starring Edward Norton, Edward Furlong, Beverly D’Angelo, Jennifer Lien, Ethan Suplee, Fairuza Balk, Avery Brooks, Elliott Gould, Stacy Keach, William Russ, Guy Torry, Joe Cortese, Jason Bose Smith, Antonio David Lyons, & Alex Sol. New Line Cinema/Savoy Pictures/The Turman-Morrissey Company.
Rated 18A. 119 minutes.
Crime/Drama

★★★★★
POSTER The idea of racism is something that interests me to no end. Because I’ll never understand it. I can’t wrap my head around being a racist. I can understand people fed up with racism saying “Fuck white people” because after so long all you can do is hate the people that are perpetuating racist nonsense. Either way, the neo-Nazi subculture and the concept of white supremacy interests me. In the sense it baffles me. Being about 13 when American History X hit theatre, I remember seeing it shortly after on VHS. Tony Kaye’s stylised directing wasn’t immediately what hit me; that I came to appreciate later. Initially, the story and its plots concerning the heart of hate and the disease of racism, specifically white nationalist ideology, grabbed me at an early stage of my teenage years. Being from a small island off the far East Coast of Canada – Newfoundland – and from a semi-small town, I didn’t know many people of other races. However, that never made me feel separated. When I moved to Ontario to pursue film school for a couple years I met people from all walks of life, all religions, cultures, races. Two of the few best friends I made during my time there were of completely different upbringing: one was a black, London-born Canadian, the other a Canadian Sikh. So coming from a place where I’d known nobody, aside from a doctor I had, from a different race or culture, it amazes me that others somehow from the same type of place as myself managed to become racist. I’ve seen more “tired and hungry and poor” white people that Derek Vinyard (Edward Norton) speaks about mooching off the system than any immigrant I know of. So many of the people who come to Newfoundland particularly are hard workers, nice people, genuine and often interesting. Whereas I know an awful amount of white Newfoundlanders who only work 5 months out of the year then take the rest off on unemployment, working seasonally so they can spend their winters riding snowmobiles and going to the cabin. Take from that what you will.
American History X is a unique film about white supremacy. One which takes aim at the irresponsible and unavoidable consequences of racial hatred through the lens of Derek. Using a nonlinear narrative, Kaye tells a fascinating tale with the script from David McKenna, and tries to look at Derek in a neutral light while he transitions out of his hideous racist past. Again, the style is what you’ll find draws you in, but the ultimate journey on which Derek finds himself, the way McKenna’s screenplay reveals his past and how time in prison culminated in his realisation of a different way of life, these are the elements that are most interesting. This isn’t a plea to give white supremacists a chance. This is a plea to give those willing to change a chance. At the very same time, the film’s ending leaves us at a point where we must consider there’s a possibility Derek could, after all that’s happened, revert back to that old life. Regardless, Kaye and McKenna’s collaboration makes for a work of art, topped by a powerhouse performance out of Norton, giving it all he’s got in a role that could be monumentally difficult for a lesser actor.
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The use of black-and-white v. colour in particular segments is more than a stylistic device. It is thematic in nature. All flashbacks to Derek’s time before being released, the past, his racist past specifically, are shot in black-and-white. Later, after his release from prison the story becomes colour, vibrant and vivid. This is because the colour change represents the very struggle through which Derek goes while in prison. He used to see the world only in black v. white. Now, once through the prison gates and back into the real world, Derek sees everything in reality, the way it is, as a colourful palette, one that’s incomplete without all shades of the spectrum.
That infamous curb stomp scene is one that’s etched in the minds of moviegoers around the world. Permanently. It isn’t simply the visual and the intense way Kaye sets up the scene, nor is it that fiery, Satan-like look that Norton gives while holding his hands up for the police. The sound design gets me, every time. The way that guy puts his teeth to the curb and they scrape lightly, an almost metal-like sound against the cement… yuck. Just rattles down my spine.
Something that makes the entire film more heavy, aside from Kaye’s directorial choices and the cinematography alone (also by Kaye), is the score. Anne Dudley (Say Anything…The Crying GameThe Full Monty) gives the atmosphere a much more intense feeling with her various pieces. The classical sound of the orchestral work helps give the movie something extra rather than going with a traditional soundtrack, something you might expect from most movies about neo-Nazis; you can almost see another film in a similar vein using rock n’roll versus hip hop, making things tacky. Dudley does a lot of amazing stuff here that does wonders for the overall atmosphere. The suspense and tension is pumped up. In that curb stomp scene there is a beautiful, simultaneously ominous bit of choir along with orchestra that makes you feel as if you’re sitting in on a sermon at church. The way it plays underneath the action of the scene, the way Kaye slows things down and lets you see, feel everything, is impressively potent.
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Hate is baggage. Lifes too short to be pissed off all the time. Its just not worth it.”

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The character of Cameron Alexander (Stacy Keach) is highly interesting. Due to the fact these types of “chicken hawk” neo-Nazi, white nationalist phonies are all too real. They’re the types out there conning young men into the lifestyle, feeding them lies and filling their heads/hearts with the fertiliser of hate and racism. Keach plays him well: a weasel of a man, one that pumps himself up with the accomplishments of others and partly with embellished stories of his own past, a guy that uses a bunch of young people to do the dirty work he can’t manage himself, a lost and pathetic man that grasps onto whatever control he’s able to, wherever it comes. He’s a great parallel to Derek, as the latter has done actual real time in prison, whereas Cam only did a small bid before ratting on two younger guys and letting them take the big fall. This opens up the comparison, which is what much of Derek’s time after prison concerns primarily.
Derek knows the hardships of real time in the big house. Moreover, he’s seen his own white supposed brethren turn on him; not only did they hurt him, they straight up raped him. So there’s also the added fact Derek saw more than rough time in prison. He witnessed the hypocrisy of those beliefs while inside the walls of the penitentiary. Meanwhile, this eventually leads to his understanding the hypocrisy of white supremacy and the neo-Nazi ideology in general. Stemming from his experience in jail, especially his time working alongside Lamont (Guy Torry), Derek comes to see that he knows no black people, he doesn’t know their personal experience though he judges them and considers them all leeches on society, et cetera – just as many on the outside won’t understand his personal journey as an inmate, they’ll merely chalk him up as one of many. So through his terrifying, disturbing prison time Derek is able to get out of that racist mindset and discover another side to life. Norton plays the character incredibly well and he makes an ugly character into a human being, coming out on the opposite side of racism with a view that not enough in the real world will find on their own. His portrayal of Derek is one of the greatest from the 1990s. Better than that it’s the single best portrait of a white supremacist I’ve personally ever seen.
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American History X weaves the tale of generational racism through the story of Derek Vinyard’s character, his personal experiences with neo-Nazi ideology and the consequences of going through the prison system holding onto his own system of belief while having it challenged at every corner. The epitome of this vein comes through Derek’s father, which is why his most important, major scene comes later at a critical moment in the finale of the film; almost at the very moment young Danny (Edward Furlong) pinpoints where their lives changed, when the racist seed found itself planted firmly in their hearts. A powerful moment, punctuated by nice directing.
All sorts of these moments happen. The movie is filled with them. We’re never asked to identify with hatred. We’re merely asked to look it in the eye, as the characters do. Derek looks hate right in the eye and his own mistakes in the scene where he looks in the mirror, seeing that symbol of hate right on his chest; he covers it up with his hand to try and imagine himself without it. This is a story of redemption, just as much as it’s also a story about the consequences of hatred. It’s ultimately a cycle that keeps on perpetuating itself, over and over until the end of time. Almost as if there’ll never be an end. The fire started a long time ago. At this point, it rages too hot and bright to ever fully be extinguished. We can only try as best we can to keep on keeping on in the face of its heat.

Talk Radio: Freedom of Speech and the Death of Truth

Talk Radio. 1988. Directed by Oliver Stone. Screenplay by Stone & Eric Bogosian; based on the play by Bogosian & Tad Savinar, which is based on the book Talked to Death: The Life & Murder of Alan Berg by Stephen Singular.
Starring Eric Bogosian, Ellen Greene, Leslie Hope, John C. McGinley, Alec Baldwin, John Pankow, Michael Wincott, Linda Atkinson, Robert Trebor, Zach Grenier, Tony Frank, Harlan Jordan, Anna Levine & Allan Corduner. Cineplex-Odeon Films/Ten-Four Productions.
Rated 14A. 110 minutes.
Drama

★★★★★
POSTER Disclaimer: parts of this review will spoil the finale, which is obviously huge. So I urge you to check the movie out, then come back. If not there’s an intense moment near the end that’ll be totally ruined for you.

Oliver Stone is a filmmaker whose catalogue of work can easily divide people. Then there are hardcore supposed Stone fans that don’t like his movies that aren’t like Natural Born Killers or JFK. They don’t want him unless he’s on full-throttle Stone style, whatever that is. Because for me, he is a versatile director and storyteller. He is always slightly political, if not completely politically minded. But there are many facets to his in your face style of filmmaking. First and foremost, Stone is continually concerned about the truth. His films are a way of examining the truth, and sometimes various truths, about life, politics, history, and everything else in between.
Talk Radio is perhaps one of his most poignant films, for many reasons. Despite what he says about his own work. First, the screenplay was written by Stone and also star Eric Bogosian, based on the stage play Bogosian wrote with Tad Savinar. In turn, that play is further based on Stephen Singular’s biography about radio host Alan Berg. So there’s a very interesting aspect to Stone’s film that captures part of the stage play, in the sense we stick close to lead character Barry Champlain, and many of the extended scenes are relegated to the radio station’s main room. With Stone’s talent, and a blockbuster performance from Bogosian in a role that he already knew but was able to flesh out onscreen, Talk Radio becomes a highly personal, emotional journey that’s also a part of a larger conversation about freedom of speech and difference of opinion.
Oh, and Barry Champlain (Eric Bogosian) is the reason I like to use the word ‘meatball’ in reference to idiots. Frequently.
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At his basest level, Barry is searching for passion. Even if it’s the wrong kind, he’s seeking those who feel strongly. When his ex-wife comes back into the picture he realizes she’s likely the only person who actually cares about him. However, she has moved on. But the audience hasn’t, not just the people who like listening to his show, also the ones who hate him. The audience cannot move on, not like his ex-wife. Even his ex-wife is drawn to him, despite remarrying, and though she knows he’s toxic there’s something that keeps her coming back. And the audience is the same. Because at the bottom of it all a guy like Champlain is needed. He inflames both the right and left, and anybody, everybody in between. He constantly and consistently challenges the status quo as an equally opportunity offender; he doesn’t care if you’re black, white, another Jew such as himself, or whoever.
In a day and age where freedom of speech is often at war with people and their differing values, Barry isn’t dated. He is fresh and unique. He represents the right to say what you mean, as long as what you say has merit. This is clearly, easily represented in the way he screens his own calls. Whatever comes through the line, stupid or profound (most of which falls into the former category), Barry takes on. Sometimes he has things to say, other times he’ll just hang up. Because he has things to talk about, he has legitimate ideas that are built around fact and not solely on opinion. Barry draws a line in the sand which ultimately explains what free speech is all about. In that yes, you can say what you want, at least as far as libel and such goes. You can’t just say anything without consequence, and you can’t just say anything without something to back it up. A little fact, a piece of tangible evidence to back yourself up. Without that, what is there? Opinion. It’s fine to have one. Although opinion isn’t truth.
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HUGE SPOILER AHEAD: in the end, Barry pays for his truthfulness, his facts and the way he jams them viciously down peoples throat, sparing no one on either side of an issue if they’re not coming with anything credible. He gets gunned down in the parking lot coming out of his show. This is when the free speech bumps up against extremism. The problem with anyone on any side getting to a point of extremism is that they do not consider the fact they’re silencing the same free speech they likely champion for their wild perspectives. Here, the neo-Nazi, white nationalists are the hypocritical faction, at once calling for free speech and at the same time threatening Barry with bodily harm over his outspoken views.
Eric Bogosian transforms a character from a stage play into one that works just as well onscreen. He’s powerful. There are plenty of times he gets to monologue, including one mammoth speech in particular that’s wildly intense. A few of the more powerful moments involve when Barry is confronted over the phone by men who are clearly white supremacists. There’s an air of confidence, an abundance of it almost all the time. Yet underneath, Bogosian shows that Barry is afraid. Not necessarily of them, but of himself and how far he’ll allow it all to go, to what place he’ll eventually get and if he can come back. The whole character is complex, representative of many things. While so much of Barry is about free speech, he’s also about belief and how much a person’s beliefs mean to them. Right to the end he is strong, though to a fault. I can’t think of anyone better to have played him in the film.
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This is possibly my favourite Oliver Stone film, right up there next to Salvador. Using the amazing stage play with which Eric Bogosian was associated is a stroke of genius. Much as Oliver Stone claims it inhibited him, in his mind. To me, it worked perfectly. This is one of the less Stone-like films in his own catalogue. Not in any bad way, as I love his style. But Talk Radio is a more straight up take on the subject. No less impressive and powerful. Through a fantastic central performance from Bogosian we’re able to access the inner life of Barry Champlain while simultaneously exploring all those themes he encompasses. There aren’t as many movies out there about freedom of speech that are as good, nor are there any that come so near to the danger in which free speech finds itself today, sadly, in the 21st century. Watching this now it takes on a whole new life. We need more people like Barry. To keep pushing the envelope, though not for one side or the other. Just simply pushing.

Skinhead Subculture vs. White Nationalism in This Is England

This Is England. 2006. Directed & Written by Shane Meadows.
Starring Thomas Turgoose, Stephen Graham, Jo Hartley, Andrew Shim, Vicky McClure, Joseph Gilgun, Rosamund Hanson, Andrew Ellis, Perry Benson, George Newton, Frank Harper, & Jack O’Connell. Warp Films/Big Arty Productions/EM Media.
Unrated. 101 minutes.
Crime/Drama

★★★★★
POSTER Shane Meadows is a British National Treasure. His films are snapshots of British life in various ways. Above all else, his directing and writing gives us insight into the struggle of the lower class, from people living in council flats to those fighting war and coming home to a dreary life to skinheads and white nationalists struggling to discover some kind of place in the hierarchy of English citizens. Regardless of theme, his subjects are usually a part of the lower socioeconomic ladder. This technique is proper because the best films often illustrate the complexities of its issues, something Meadows is able to do time and time again.
This Is England tells two stories: that of skinhead subculture and its reappropriation by white nationalist groups, as well as the tale of a young man in a low class neighbourhood trying to find his way, fed up with being bullied and with nowhere else to turn but a damaged group of neo-Nazis. The realism of the film is what gives Meadows his edge. In the tradition of other well respected British filmmakers such as Ken Loach, this movie and the style of Meadows in his directorial choices makes This Is England an important piece of cinema. Not simply in terms of British film, but rather it is a hugely influential, emotional, provocative work that begs attention from the world. Best of all, though, it definitely has given the British film industry hope in the 21st century to have someone like Meadows making such excellent films.
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Effectively, Meadows turns a personal story into one that attempts to demarcate the end of being a skinhead simply as an apolitical lifestyle, an attitude and a way of dress, before the white nationalists adopted it into a part of their system. The central story is about Shaun (Thomas Turgoose), his being a member of the lower class and slipping in amongst the cracks eventually almost right into the grasp of a dangerous ideology. However, around that with the influence of Combo (Stephen Graham) comes the major examination of skinhead culture. Today, you say the word skinhead and just about every last person you ask will associate that automatically with neo-Nazism. Rightfully so, as we see throughout This Is England. Because the apolitical nature of the original skinhead subculture clashed so brutally, often violently with the resurgence of Nazi ideologies in the 1960s through to the ’80s; of course there are still groups out there, but it seems up until the ’80s, maybe early ’90s was when the heyday of neo-Nazi subculture raged. In this sense, the situation between Combo and Milky (Andrew Shim) can be seen as a microcosm of the entire national situation in England with the skinheads and the white nationalists bumping up against one another. That emergence of senseless violence in Combo is like the turning point of where the white nationalism overtook skinhead subculture and made it their defining look.
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To my mind, Graham is one of the best actors working today. He is consistently amazing from one project to the next, and his energy is undeniable. There’s this thing that Hollywood, and the movie industry as a whole, has with male actors of smaller stature where they don’t usually get enough attention, other than some of the classic guys from the 1970s like Dustin Hoffman, even Al Pacino who isn’t that big. They were able to break past any of that foolishness and impress with their style. Graham is one of those, whose size determines nothing about his performance. He is downright threatening, menacing to the extreme even in his quieter moments. The explosiveness of his temper as Combo is startling. Without him, this story would not come as effective as it does because his raw intensity, the emotion he coils up underneath the character is fascinating. One favourite moment, even though it’s so hard to choose: after Lol (Vicky McClure) leaves him alone in the car, Combo does all he can to prevent bursting out into tears, shaking and crying; a scene of wild emotion, very subtle, very personal.
Aside from Graham and an altogether spectacular cast, young Thomas Turgoose is a major reason why the character of Shaun and his whole story comes across so honest. Before this film he’d never acted. Apparently he’d previously been kicked out of his school play for bad behaviour, even demanded five quid for his audition. Amazing. But his lack of experience as a formal actor, or even amateur, pays off. His reactions, his timing, it’s all genuine and there’s no pretense in him whatsoever. I’m sure an experienced actor could’ve played the character of Shaun, but for a personal, truthful, tragic story and character someone like Turgoose was the perfect pick. The kid has charisma and he makes Shaun into an interesting character that in the hands of a professional actor might have been caught up in method over something more organic.
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Shane Meadows wrote and directed one of the greatest films in the past couple decades. Certainly one of the best of the 21st century, and will remain so until the end of time. The cast is spot on, natural, led by the fantastically riveting performances of Stephen Graham and newcomer Thomas Turgoose. Keeping things natural and opting for a style akin to realism, Meadows captures the violent clash of subcultures in England through the eyes of a lost and lonely young boy. Not enough films are honest. This Is England comes across as some of the more honest cinema, British or otherwise, I’ve personally ever seen. The hardest truths to confront are most important, and Meadows does perfectly well navigating tough subject matter to create an engaging story that should resonate with many, today and long after tomorrow.