Note: does not contain plot synopsis or spoilers
I originally began this by saying "Tyrannosaur is, in many ways, not for the faint-hearted", which now that I think about it is an expression you only ever actually see in film reviews. Maybe the occasional theme park ride. Because who are "the faint-hearted" anyway? Nobody enjoys scenes of brutality in a film. Even stultified teenage boys who are thrilled by depictions of pain infliction in the increasingly missing-the-point-of-horror torture-porn genre are just in it for the novelty, the fantasy, the bizarreness of it all. In terms of dealing with the realities of life, these kids are probably more faint-hearted than most. I suppose those to whom the expression usually refers equate film entertainment with blissful escape, a movie world where Good and Bad are neatly defined and all ends well. Why would anybody want to be reminded of how upsetting life can be for some people?
Well, I don't personally seek out or reject entertainment based on its thematic content. I look out for critical recommendations, because there just isn't enough time to get through ALL of Adam Sandler's oeuvre. Also, I hear an endangered mammal dies every time Michael Bay gets an idea. Anyway. Easy targets. Because it is well-made and superbly acted, Tyrannosaur, for all its portrayal of negative events, left me feeling positive. Of the issues it raised, none were wrapped up nicely in a metaphorical box labelled "We don't ever need to worry about THAT happening again". This is life. Bad stuff happens. In fact, this is England. Even worse stuff happens. That was a little joke.
It's not that there isn't a glimpse of redemption. Redemption, though often clothed in religion, is in the realm of reality just as much as violence is. It's not an invented film device for people with faint hearts. Redemption can be invisible yet momentous. If you are lucky enough to perceive such a shift in a character, it defines your experience as a viewer.
When a violent person commits a terrible act, he or she may be any of the following:
(1) Evil incarnate (the tabloid perspective);
(2) Psychotic or nihilistic or just plain not-at-home;
(3) A battered, bruised, turbulent, self-loathing, confused, inarticulate mind, usually unable to step outside of its own circular patterns. Occasionally, something occurs to break the pattern.
Which one do you think makes for the richest dramatic experience? If you didn't say (3) then you deliberately did not step into my trap, in which case well done for being clever, please pass me my hat and good-day to you sir. It takes the best filmmakers and actors to illustrate this kind of complex anguish in any remotely convincing way, which might be why truly fulfilling "downbeat" films are relatively rare. This is one of them.
Q&A with director, Paddy Considine
Q&A with director, Paddy Considine
