While Jo (Roberts) is chained down in a dead end supermarket job, her friends are all out on their own separate adventures: Cassandra (Egerton) is jetting off to New York to meet her ... See full summary »
A case of mistaken identity lands Slevin into the middle of a war being plotted by two of the city's most rival crime bosses: The Rabbi and The Boss. Slevin is under constant surveillance by relentless Detective Brikowski as well as the infamous assassin Goodkat and finds himself having to hatch his own ingenious plot to get them before they get him.
A thief with a unique code of professional ethics is double-crossed by his crew and left for dead. Assuming a new disguise and forming an unlikely alliance with a woman on the inside, he looks to hijack the score of the crew's latest heist.
While Jo (Roberts) is chained down in a dead end supermarket job, her friends are all out on their own separate adventures: Cassandra (Egerton) is jetting off to New York to meet her Internet boyfriend; Kerrys (Warren-Markland) is on a one woman crusade fighting for female liberation and Shannon (Lovibond) is on a one way trip to meet her maker. But a chance encounter with some diamond thieves sends their separate worlds on a collision course with not only each other, but fate itself. These 4 girls are about to have 3 days they will never forget, spanning to 2 cities. That is ... if they survive. Written by
3 films Clarke is synonymous with. 2 of which were highly accomplished bordering on very good. 1 misfire here, which isn't without merit but is lacking in the long run.
188.8.131.52. is Noel Clarke's latest in low-level set, juvenile driven criminal shenanigans on the streets of London, and, hark, the expanding to that of New York (no doubt for the American market). The effort is a piece which needed more of a reigning in, more of a delicate attitude towards the sorts of expansive and sporadic material writer/director Clakre takes on and as a result the film ends up a flitting, spitting piece; a film which darts around covering an array of varying stories and strands of varying content, most of which is intelligible, but almost all of which eventually comes to feel inconsequential. It is the result of the ever escalating career of British filmmaker and producer Noel Clarke, his 2006 debut Kidulthood a rather paralysingly terrifying insight into the world of inimical kids running riot; his 2007 follow up branching out more into character and framework linked to redemption and causality.
The film covers, taking clear glee in establishing, '4' girls over '3' nights in '2' cities; but only with the '1' chance, remember. It's sad and a little surprising to report that none of the lead four girls are particularly interesting above a certain level. The best character in the film, the character whose plight resonates with us the most, is the Brazilian father, played by Alexander Siddig, of one of the four girls in Kerrys (Warren-Markland) and her volatile brother, whose pained expression and agonisingly pacifist approach to his family affects us most as he, like us, looks out and around at the ever-decaying world inhabited by ever-decaying people around him in the exact manner we do. With Kerrys comes Emma Roberts' Joanne; wiry, upper-class blonde Cassandra (Egerton), who's got a big trip to America lined up, and young Shannon (Lovibond) who's going through a tough time in life, unaided by her parent's separation. Their lives in England consist of usual fare: college, driving lessons, odd jobs in 24/7 corner shops and trips to the swimming centre; Cassandra even appears to play the piano when at home, one session of which concludes with her butler clapping very slowly, even sarcastically, as she appears to very slowly understand how to do it. Things appear to kick off for the worse when, upon leaving a café, during which Kerrys establishes an early characteristic of empowerment when foiling a mugger after a friend's bag, a diamond robbery occurs a hundred feet away and upon their respective escape, one is dropped into Shannon's bag.
The opening story is Shannon's, an intimate enough portrayal of a young girl going through some tough times as friends and parents appear to shoulder her out of their lives; the closing story is Jo's crime infused tale of gangsters, heister's and romance, most of everything Britain based pretty much told as kitchen sink drama for the BBC Three generation. Inbetween, we cover the tribulations of young Cassandra and her trip to New York for a piano playing trial that might see her garner entrance to an elite school; along the way, a rendez-vous with an Internet contact spelling disaster. The film is not utterly devoid of ideas in this regard nor on this strand, Cassandra's story a stern enough deconstruction about the dangers to do with cyberspace identity no doubt rife within the universe of the people 184.108.40.206. is aimed at; her uncovering of a sordid plot to do with stalker-like obsession sees her initially land in New York to a chirpy soundtrack and a string of familiarised New York iconography which eventually gives way to a tale of terror that is mostly stupid but engages on a basic enough level.
The film appears to empower women as much as it distinguishes the men as vile, corrupt, pig-headed morons whom are mostly amoral, creepy or just plain evil. In 220.127.116.11., the women are humanised and feel on some very deep levels, be it in the form of suicidal ideation or angrily and powerfully in reaction to a man's advances, particularly on one occasion when that character was previously established as somewhat introverted in this sense. It's an idea driven by the character of Kerrys whom predominantly takes on the role of warrior woman and is granted additional points of interest when it transpires the strongest character in the film is additionally homosexual. The notion is somewhat sadly contradicted by the fact Clarke has Kerrys and her partner as the item of the male gaze, objectifying some of her and her girlfriend's more intimate scenes while more often than not, on a much broader scale, manipulates the script so as to be able to shoot extended sequences of them wearing next to nothing.
There was always a recognisable sense in Clarke's previous projects, particularly Kidulthood, of the man shooting everything through a hazy filter of remorse and sadness; a depression at the fact he knows they were a rather accurate representations of Britain's youth and the items it faces. His latest, this 2010 effort, is bouncier in this regard; more upbeat and throw-away, as if the detailing of these seedy people and their seedy lives has given way to the concentration on the wacky situations that pop up and the sordid manner in which it's all connected with everything - most of the characters here just feel 'placed' in amidst the middle of it all for good measure. The opening heist gone-wrong sequence is unfolded and placed on the back-burner, but is curiously forgotten about by around the hour mark; that sense of very little of it really all that intrinsically linked to most of what's happening starting to feel prominent. Along the way, a lot of charging about with nary a lot accomplished is the order of the day, the strands fluctuating from standing deathly still doing nothing to darting along at a break-neck rate; very little of it all that interesting and by the time Jo's strand has kicked in, the gimmick really just wearing out its welcome.
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