September 27, 2009
Those who saw Nick Love’s last film – the brilliant but brutal Outlaw – would have been forgiven for stumbling out into the street feeling as though they’d just been beaten up. The Firm, whilst by no means a light comedy, never the less sees a return to the hard but breezy style of some of his earlier films. As such it’s a bit like his excellent debut Goodbye Charlie Bright.
A loose remake of Alan Clarke’s outstanding 1988 TV play about football violence amongst the upper working classes, The Firm puts a twist on the original story of Bex (then played by Gary Oldman, now by newcomer Paul Anderson) by cleverly shifting the focus onto his protege Dom (the excellent Calum McNabb, who had a bit part in Love’s The Football Factory). Dom and his mate Trev, scallys from a beat down London council estate, manage to offend smarmy estate agent and Firm top boy Bex during a night out; they are subsequently advised to apologise to him or suffer the consequences. Dom, a cheeky, wide eyed, misguidedly ambitious lad, has enough bottle to walk into Bex’s pub and publicly capitulate in front of his whole crew; Bex surprises everyone – and perhaps himself – by taking this young man under his wing and preparing Dom and the rest of his Firm for a mighty showdown in Europe in which – he hopes – all the London Firms will unite. His main problem is Yeti (Daniel Mays), leader of a rival Firm and opposer of Bex’s vision.
Love has made a name for himself as a chronicler of young, working class male angst, suggesting that what they really crave – beyond the violence, crime or vigilantism that he regularly has them mixed up in – is a sense of security. The Firm is no exception to this, as the Firm is nothing if not a surrogate family for the young Dom, whose lovely but simple parents fail to provide the charisma and sense of completion that he requires. As such, this version of The Firm is not exactly a like for like remake; in the original, Clarke wasn’t really concerned with such matters and Bex was the only fully fleshed out character. There is also a tangible difference in tone and style; the original was a stripped down 80s TV play, this is a film set in the 80s but made in the 21st century and steeped in the nostalgia of that decade, strong on period music and costume, though careful to avoid overly glamorising the subject matter – the fight scenes here are just as messy and scuzzy as they were the first time round.
In the past, Love’s films have come in for criticisms of lad-mag irrelevance (The Business) or overly negative pessimism (Outlaw); whether you agree with these or not, The Firm feels like his most mature film to date: it’s well made, it’s got a great sense of humour, and the ending is more considered and plausible than has sometimes been the case, and – come to think of it – than in the Alan Clarke version. If Anderson’s performance as Bex is little more than adequate, Mays and McNabb make up for it, the former continuing to prove what a fine actor he is after great performances in All or Nothing, Vera Drake and Shifty, the latter infuriatingly likeable as the somewhat obnoxious Dom, all half formed ideas, puny voice and a brilliant mimicry of Bex’s walk.
There are a couple of affectionate tributes to the original: in the opening scene, Love uses a stedicam – an old favourite of Clarke’s – to track Bex as he walks across the estate to meet his boys to the sound of Kool and the Gang’s 'Get Down On It'; this is a scene that will warm the nostalgic heart of anyone born before 1985. And the estate agent that Bex runs is called Hunter, Clarke and Ashton; the writer of the original TV play was Al Hunter-Ashton. The Firm works both as another brilliant entry in Love’s oeuvre and a fine updating of a piece of classic television; it sounds a bit perverse to put this label on a Nick Love picture, but it’s actually quite a nice film!
A loose remake of Alan Clarke’s outstanding 1988 TV play about football violence amongst the upper working classes, The Firm puts a twist on the original story of Bex (then played by Gary Oldman, now by newcomer Paul Anderson) by cleverly shifting the focus onto his protege Dom (the excellent Calum McNabb, who had a bit part in Love’s The Football Factory). Dom and his mate Trev, scallys from a beat down London council estate, manage to offend smarmy estate agent and Firm top boy Bex during a night out; they are subsequently advised to apologise to him or suffer the consequences. Dom, a cheeky, wide eyed, misguidedly ambitious lad, has enough bottle to walk into Bex’s pub and publicly capitulate in front of his whole crew; Bex surprises everyone – and perhaps himself – by taking this young man under his wing and preparing Dom and the rest of his Firm for a mighty showdown in Europe in which – he hopes – all the London Firms will unite. His main problem is Yeti (Daniel Mays), leader of a rival Firm and opposer of Bex’s vision.
Love has made a name for himself as a chronicler of young, working class male angst, suggesting that what they really crave – beyond the violence, crime or vigilantism that he regularly has them mixed up in – is a sense of security. The Firm is no exception to this, as the Firm is nothing if not a surrogate family for the young Dom, whose lovely but simple parents fail to provide the charisma and sense of completion that he requires. As such, this version of The Firm is not exactly a like for like remake; in the original, Clarke wasn’t really concerned with such matters and Bex was the only fully fleshed out character. There is also a tangible difference in tone and style; the original was a stripped down 80s TV play, this is a film set in the 80s but made in the 21st century and steeped in the nostalgia of that decade, strong on period music and costume, though careful to avoid overly glamorising the subject matter – the fight scenes here are just as messy and scuzzy as they were the first time round.
In the past, Love’s films have come in for criticisms of lad-mag irrelevance (The Business) or overly negative pessimism (Outlaw); whether you agree with these or not, The Firm feels like his most mature film to date: it’s well made, it’s got a great sense of humour, and the ending is more considered and plausible than has sometimes been the case, and – come to think of it – than in the Alan Clarke version. If Anderson’s performance as Bex is little more than adequate, Mays and McNabb make up for it, the former continuing to prove what a fine actor he is after great performances in All or Nothing, Vera Drake and Shifty, the latter infuriatingly likeable as the somewhat obnoxious Dom, all half formed ideas, puny voice and a brilliant mimicry of Bex’s walk.
There are a couple of affectionate tributes to the original: in the opening scene, Love uses a stedicam – an old favourite of Clarke’s – to track Bex as he walks across the estate to meet his boys to the sound of Kool and the Gang’s 'Get Down On It'; this is a scene that will warm the nostalgic heart of anyone born before 1985. And the estate agent that Bex runs is called Hunter, Clarke and Ashton; the writer of the original TV play was Al Hunter-Ashton. The Firm works both as another brilliant entry in Love’s oeuvre and a fine updating of a piece of classic television; it sounds a bit perverse to put this label on a Nick Love picture, but it’s actually quite a nice film!