Reassured by the great British public, 66% thought it almost fantastic, we went to see Harry Brown. A very bleak film. Fine, bleak is good, some of the toughest social issues lurk in these dark corners.
Expectations running high, we lurch through one ludicrous implausible plot shift to another as one hackneyed cliché after another, after another is trotted out. There are occasional hints of originality with a fresh take but these, after the initial languid absorbing scene setting opening, never develop or find any legs. Instead it accelerates into cheap kicks with gratuitous drug taking, violence and violence against women. Whatever creative drive it started out with was quickly used up and there were no reserve Plan B's to call on. Even the final crescendo of violence cannot be left as a climatic end with three, in teach yourself detail, dead and two in doubt, but, has to whimper off into a limp-wristed apology of a soppy nonsensical soft landing.
Oh Micheal Caine, that you gave authority to and your great performance should have been wasted on such unmitigated dross.
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