Take a look back at these Hollywood icons in their early days to see how far they've come in their careers—and how little they've visibly aged.
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Title: Chopper (2000)
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| Cast overview, first billed only: | |||
| Vince Colosimo | ... | Neville Bartos | |
| Eric Bana | ... | Chopper | |
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Renée Brack | ... | Television Interviewer (as Renee Brack) |
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Gregory Pitt | ... | Prison Officer #1 |
| Richard Sutherland | ... | Prison Officer #2 | |
| David Field | ... | Keithy George | |
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Simon Lyndon | ... | Jimmy Loughnan |
| Dan Wyllie | ... | Bluey | |
|
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Gary Waddell | ... | Kevin Darcy |
|
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Andrew Dunn | ... | Prison Officer #3 |
|
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Caleb Cluff | ... | Detective Creswell |
|
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Hilton Henderson | ... | Detective Wyatt |
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Fred Barker | ... | Gov. Beasley |
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Alan Close | ... | Medical Officer |
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Carl Price | ... | Brunswick Court Judge |
Chopper tells the intense story of Mark "Chopper" Read, a legendary criminal who wrote his autobiography while serving a murder sentence in prison. His book, From the Inside, upon which the film is based, was a best-seller. Written by Anonymous
Australian actor-comedian Eric Bana, who we know from Hulk, Black Hawk Down and Munich, believably fleshes out a violent extortionist so formidable and yet so dense and hurt. There's a scene where he is shanked by his confidant, and continues appearing to be in no pain at all. His lack of concern is shocking. He looks down at blood pouring from his torso like someone else has been injured, and then up at his assailant as if conveying sorrow that it should've come to this. Then there's another scene where he shoots a drug dealer and then considerately drives him to the hospital.
The movie, which I'm completely unsure it finds what it's looking for, is either 1) shrewd or 2) too eager to get to the prurient in not depicting an elucidation of Chopper's aggressive depravity. Regardless, it does give a hint in the way he's separate from criminal gangs and has no partners. He's not a gangster, if that word entails a line of work, but a brutal psychopath taken by impulsive frenzies. There is a surprising moment during a passing stint on the outside of prison, when he re-examines old hangouts and old friends and appears gracious and appeasing, until his rabid side lashes with unrestrained wrath. The earlier amiability was not a put-on to throw people off their guard. He actually was feeling welcoming, and did not essentially expect the blasts of rage out of the blue.
How this initially shocking, then bleakly funny, then merely repetitive cult biopic uninflectingly illustrates its subject is as a row of disturbed emotional states and thought processes. Perhaps a clinical mood disorder case reared in a society not bound to notice or care, or equip him with the ability to do either himself, he's just seized by these agitated episodes flanked by comparatively normal behavior despite being a violent, oversexed criminal. Nevertheless, the rapid alternating, which is sometimes played for perverse laughs, or suspense, or surprise, though it's more fascinating portrayals occur near the beginning as mere exposition, sometimes leads to what is either delusion and hallucination on his part, or stylistic flourish by Dominik.
I'm guessing the latter, though I enjoy Dominik's fascinating use of camera speeds in depicting the influence of cocaine, or the multiple perspectives of Chopper's shooting of a man and the intentions of both later on. But around the time of this shooting, there begins to set in an unforeseen sorrow that elevates this flashy cinematic drill, which, if nothing else for sure, is certainly a revelation of Bana's talent.