This year’s movie monsters have been sadly lacking. J. J.
Abrams’s Super 8 is a good monster
movie but, ironically enough, its most disappointing element is the monster.
The humans are the entire source of interest. By the time the monster shows up
in all his slimy, bug-eyed glory, it’s underwhelming. The titular beasts in Cowboys and Aliens were similarly
afflicted with a ho-hum derivativeness that totally sunk what little there is
to commend about that movie. These things are all arms and slime with inky black
eyes and watery slithers, nothing more than the basic component elements of
H.R. Giger’s Alien designs mixed and
matched into something familiar-but-different.
So imagine my amazement that the slick and scrappy British
creature feature Attack the Block shows
off monsters that I’ve never seen before. In the dark, these are barely visible
aliens, every inch covered with pitch-black fur. Only their eerie glowing maws
reveal their presence in swift, chomping movements. I was delighted and
surprised by these creepy creatures, which have a sense of weight and reality
that is all too missing from those modern CG beasts. Even more impressive is
the fact that the film that houses them is not only one of the most flat-out
entertaining pictures of the year, but also the perfect kind of resourceful
genre flick that has a point of view and something to say.
The events of the film take place in and around a towering
building of low-income housing that dominates a city block in south London. The
protagonists are a multi-ethnic group of young, aimless, posturing,
unsupervised teens. They’re a tight-knit group of friends, joking, laughing,
and bragging amongst themselves. A tall, older-looking-than-his-years boy clearly
runs the group (John Boyega), but his buddies (which include Franz Drameh, Alex
Esmail, Simon Howard, and Leeon Jones) aren’t underlings; they’re close
friends. Their relationships are sharply drawn and convincing. They’re as warm
and unconsciously self-conscious as any group of teen boys. We can see that
they’re good kids – they genuinely care about their friends and their
neighborhood – but the film doesn’t let them off easy. Their relationship to
the audience is complicated. As the film opens, we are introduced to them
menacing a white twenty-something woman (Jodie Whittaker), trying to steal her
purse. While they bother the poor lady, a small falling object crushes a car
parked nearby.
Investigating this crash landing, the kids are attacked by a
gross, startling little alien. In a fit of fright, and posturing, they bludgeon
the creature to death. Thus, the film starts off like a sick joke version of E.T. Instead of a white suburban kid
befriending a nice little extra-terrestrial, here a group of inner-city kids
kill a mean old alien and parade the body back to their block. They take it to
their local weed dealer (Nick Frost) who decides to let them keep it in his
weed room until the kids can contact the proper scientific authorities. After
all, they just discovered a new life form, at least that’s what one of the
buyers in the room (Luke Treadaway), a stoned nature doc fan, informs them.
This is all well and good, rapid-fire world building, but
when things start to get hairy, the film explodes in a rush of excitement that
builds increasingly tense and giddy as we race towards the climax. It turns out
that the alien was just the first to land, so when the furry, pitch-black,
essentially invisible, glowing-toothed aliens start stalking around the block,
trying desperately to get into the towering building, looking like they’re
sniffing around for revenge, the kids are the only ones prepared to recognize
the threat. There’s a bit of Joe Dante (he of Gremlins) in the exuberance with which the film approaches the
danger. The kids grab what they can find – anything blunt and wieldable – while
they mount their bikes and get ready to protect their block from a localized
alien invasion. The action that follows makes incredible use of their apartment
building, with the characters and creatures scampering up, down, and all around
the inner-city architecture in exciting, comprehensible ways with crisp editing
from Jonathan Amos while cinematographer Thomas Townend gets a gritty beauty
out of the thick nighttime atmosphere.
The film finds great vibrancy in the mostly inexperienced
young actors, who bring a youthful vitality and braggadocio to their roles.
They’re posturing at first, playing at the idea of toughness, but as events
unfold they drop the charade and slowly turn into heroic toughs despite being
scared out of their minds. One suggests they text for help. The reply: “This is
too much madness to fit into one text!” The characters come from a rough part
of town, but that doesn’t make them bad, unlikable, or disposable. The film
asserts their humanity and strength under pressure, allows them to goof around
and fight back with equal agency. They aren’t the white upper crust with the
stiff upper lip of Merchant Ivory films and the Royal Family, but that doesn’t
make them any less British. When they run into their victim from the film’s
opening and discover that she lives in the same building they do, they’re
apologetic. “We wouldn’t have robbed you if we’d known.”
This is a film energized by a deep sense of social justice
and cross-cultural understanding without feeling burdened by weighty themes.
It’s fleet, fast, and funny with an irrepressible wit and heart that shows
through even the squishier moments of creature-related mayhem. Here, violence
has consequences. Early on, the police turn up in response to the disturbance
and make things worse by assuming that these kids are on a violent rampage and
locking down the block. No one gets in; no one gets out. The kids have to deal
with this dangerous situation without any outside help. It’s a move that amps
up the plot’s tension considerably – nowhere to run, nowhere to find reinforcements
– but also serves the larger satiric point beautifully. The larger society has
turned a blind eye, misinterpreting the problems and enforcing solutions that
only make matters worse. Those in power have effectively abandoned these kids.
Writer-director Joe Cornish, a veteran of British TV, makes
his feature debut with Attack the Block,
which is, in the end, not only one of the best movies of the year but one of
the best debuts in several years. It’s a deceptively complex movie that mixes
serious intent with a great pop tone, deeply aware of both youth culture and
sociological concerns. Frightfully exciting set pieces make increasingly
inventive use of a limited number of locations. The film builds characters that
feel real. They’re funny and engaging and never sink to spouting monster movie
clichés. They’re as distinct and memorable as the monsters they have to fight and
the place in which they live. If you never thought a movie about “big alien
gorilla-wolf [expletives]” could be not only one of the most entertaining movies
of the year, but one of the most moving and thoughtful as well (and all in only 88 minutes!) I have just one
word for you: Believe.
No comments:
Post a Comment