This is quite an intense character study of two men under extreme stress, centred around the concept of loyalty, that grows increasingly absorbing as it unfolds even if it doesn't quite have the depth that writer Simon Beaufroy (writer of The Full Monty) may have been seeking.
First impressions weren't good as director Bille Eltringham seems intent on throwing every film-school technique he can think of at the screen. These distracting attempts to add some artistic merit to what is a fairly basic story come and go and, for the most part they are just that distracting but when they do work they do so extremely well. The idea of fixing the camera to the end of the shotgun wielded by the child-like Spike (Michael Colgan) works brilliantly, giving the impression that it is the weapon that is controlling the man and also emphasising the fear and confusion of the moment. But the use of blurry PoV shots as the men flee their pursuers is just annoying.
Kenny Glanaan plays Heaton, a small-time criminal who collects his friend Spike from prison after a four month sentence. We are given no further information about the two men, other than the fact that Heaton hasn't visited Spike during his sentence, and has written him numerous letters without sending them. From this slender premise a story can wither and die or it can bloom, and fortunately this one blooms, helped immeasurably by terrific acting from the two leads and Eltringham/Beaufroy's success in refusing to allow the story to degenerate into some kind of men-on-the-run action flick. Spike and Heaton aren't hardened criminals, they're the pettiest of criminals, and they're traumatised by their accidental murder of a girl and the subsequent pursuit by a stubbornly determined band of locals (perhaps the film's weakest point is the way the police seem to simply melt into the background without explanation). Early in the film, the two men are often shown in extreme close-up, or are confined to one section of the screen by objects around them, and at this point they are confident and self-assured; it's only when they are out in the wide open spaces ('Is this the countryside?' asks Spike) that their confidence evaporates. It's a nice contrast, this idea that the wider the spaces, the closer the net is tightening around them.
The film concludes with a moment of quiet, sublime horror that is incredibly powerful (and vaguely reminiscent of moments in Shane Meadows' Dead Man's Shoes), and a twist that, on it's simplest level represents both the reward for loyalty and the character traits necessary to adhere to its reality.
First impressions weren't good as director Bille Eltringham seems intent on throwing every film-school technique he can think of at the screen. These distracting attempts to add some artistic merit to what is a fairly basic story come and go and, for the most part they are just that distracting but when they do work they do so extremely well. The idea of fixing the camera to the end of the shotgun wielded by the child-like Spike (Michael Colgan) works brilliantly, giving the impression that it is the weapon that is controlling the man and also emphasising the fear and confusion of the moment. But the use of blurry PoV shots as the men flee their pursuers is just annoying.
Kenny Glanaan plays Heaton, a small-time criminal who collects his friend Spike from prison after a four month sentence. We are given no further information about the two men, other than the fact that Heaton hasn't visited Spike during his sentence, and has written him numerous letters without sending them. From this slender premise a story can wither and die or it can bloom, and fortunately this one blooms, helped immeasurably by terrific acting from the two leads and Eltringham/Beaufroy's success in refusing to allow the story to degenerate into some kind of men-on-the-run action flick. Spike and Heaton aren't hardened criminals, they're the pettiest of criminals, and they're traumatised by their accidental murder of a girl and the subsequent pursuit by a stubbornly determined band of locals (perhaps the film's weakest point is the way the police seem to simply melt into the background without explanation). Early in the film, the two men are often shown in extreme close-up, or are confined to one section of the screen by objects around them, and at this point they are confident and self-assured; it's only when they are out in the wide open spaces ('Is this the countryside?' asks Spike) that their confidence evaporates. It's a nice contrast, this idea that the wider the spaces, the closer the net is tightening around them.
The film concludes with a moment of quiet, sublime horror that is incredibly powerful (and vaguely reminiscent of moments in Shane Meadows' Dead Man's Shoes), and a twist that, on it's simplest level represents both the reward for loyalty and the character traits necessary to adhere to its reality.