Review of 44 Inch Chest (2009) by Kryztoff M — 01 May 2010

2.5 Stars out of 4.

"Everything human is pathetic. The secret source of humor itself is not joy but sorrow.".

-- Mark Twain.

Don't expect 44 Inch Chest to move at a fast pace, don't expect it to do much for that matter. It has that presence of Sidney Lumet's way superior 12 Angry Men, except the roués here discuss the immoral not the moral. Director Malcolm Venville's character approach reeks of Nietzsche nihilism and his sets evoke Brecht simplicity. I didn't enjoy 44 Inch Chest totally but I commend the film for experimenting on different comedic wavelengths. How far can these characters carry the audience? 44 Inch Chest's wit runs on a Superiority Complex -- laughing at the obviously inferior and how they struggle on a consistent basis. This is undoubtedly an actor's movie, where we have 5 male actors at their sorrowfully and misogynistic best. Are we to root for them? Not necessarily, but I don't think that is the point. Venville, though almost overdue in this 92 minute plodding film, finds a perspective -- that belonging to the rugged Colin Diamond (Ray Winstone) whose ego is caught up in a thick gossamer of remorse and anger. 44 Inch Chest is interesting but not compelling.

Venville introduces us to five, more or less, elderly men clearly linked to English crime. However, they all are different. One enjoys his lady luck at the Casinos, one lives with his mother, and another lives and breathes that dreaded 'C' word. The array of actors pulse with talent. Among Winstone's buddies there are: Meredith (Ian McShane), Old Man Peanut (John Hurt, my personal favourite here), Archie (Tom Wilkinson), and Mal (Stephen Dillane). They're really here (at an abandoned warehouse) just for the show. They superficially console their dejected mate, while really waiting for him to seek revenge on his wife's lover, who is seized in a closet.

A lot of thoughts cross Colin's mind. Will he do this? He is entrenched with anger, rage. But his eyes glimmer with ambivalence. He begins to recollect, while his friends chant at him. This whole situation is becoming outrageous, they claim. Well, some actually have a different point of view. Others think it is Colin's choice to make, and some, such as Meredith, speak in a benign manner in attempt to relax Colin from his off-and-on anxiety attacks. 44 Inch Chest maintains three-dimensional characters, so where does it falter?

Venville does not do enough with the script. The third quarter jumps from surreal to absurd to real briskly but everything seems to resemble afterthought. There is not enough to pull you in and become attached to the experience at hand. Perhaps 44 Inch Chest deals too much with past contemplation. We don't understand the repercussions, the consequences, and mostly, the present conflict. How will these fellas kill the abducted? We get no hint at a weapon. Venville relies on the bantering dialogue, but sadly, he should leave that rule of thumb only to Quentin Tarantino and Woody Allen.

Okay: so I enjoyed the first half, intrigued by the rigorous and profane derision. Venville paints a clear picture on Colin's definition of love and it so suits him: Love is an object, it's what we own, not cherish. It's almost too Nietzsche, just bordering on the brink of losing credibility. But Venville finds a clear persona in the main character. His ego is not only diminished, but flawed. We are dealing with the bad guys here. They're motives are so flawed, we begin to ask if pursuing these drones is worth it.

It somewhat is. Venville has enough ideas to keep the ball rolling, but they are not always tenacious. His philosophy on matrimony, morals, and humanity can only last so long. Venville persists but it ultimately boils down to the performances. And they're strong. As wise and as imbecilic as these characters dare to be, they are irrefutably pathetic. We'll get a kick out of their angst, but that comedic touch, you'll soon discover here, has its limits. I liked it, however, when Peanut barked: "only the strong should survive, not the weak." I practically expected Nietzsche to walk in the room, and perhaps if so, that arbitrary plot choice would've added the little thrill this film never had. Okay, I'm joking, but weren't these low-brow characters of 44 Inch Chest doing just that anyways?

I SAY--Rent It.