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Grade: B+
Charlie Bronson is the name adopted by the man reputed to be Great Britain's most violent prisoner.
Charles Bronson also is the name, of course, of the late American action star, which is why Michael Peterson
chose it (after reasoning that Charlton Heston wasn't as cool), shaving his head and growing a twirly circus-strong-man mustache. The choice of an actor as an alter ego is fitting, because Bronson the prisoner considers himself a performer. On the inside, at least, he's going to make a name for himself. He's going to be a star.
Certainly that's how Tom Hardy plays him in Bronson, based on a true story. It's a genuinely brilliant portrayal, jaw-dropping in its audacity. Think of Heath Ledger as the Joker in The Dark Knight as a starting point and go from there. This is psychotic behavior as performance art, and Hardy makes it irresistible.
The film is directed in hyperstylized fashion by Nicolas Winding Refn; Bronson often addresses a real audience (at least he does in his head) dressed in tuxedos and evening gowns, in a well-appointed theater. At other times, he addresses the camera directly, his friendly grin turning into a scowl so quickly it startles you.
At other times Refn takes us through a more straightforward account of Bronson's adventures, such as they are. His nondescript early life with decent parents, his foray into crime, his stint at a psychiatric hospital (during which time Hardy's portrayal is so gruesome, it's difficult to watch). Bronson spends a little time on the outside, including a couple of months as a bare-knuckles underground fighter, but he's clearly not suited for that world. An attempt at romance is pathetic, and soon he's back in prison, where he believes he belongs. And he may be right.
Bronson originally received a seven-year sentence for robbing a post office. He would serve more than 30 years, most of them in solitary confinement, for his various violent outbreaks. He has a fondness, for instance, for taking guards hostage, then stripping naked and giving the guards as much of a beating as he can before they overpower him.
In one particularly breathtaking exchange in front of the audience, Bronson makes up half his face as a female administrator. He whips his head from side to side to conduct a heated conversation with her -- in reality, of course, with himself. It's stunning.
Refn doesn't use Bronson as a meditation on punishment or psychology or anything of that sort. Instead, he just lets Hardy go. And why not? This is unhinged genius, an amazing piece of acting. Brutal, yes, but magnetic all the same.
Charlie Bronson is the name adopted by the man reputed to be Great Britain's most violent prisoner.
Charles Bronson also is the name, of course, of the late American action star, which is why Michael Peterson
chose it (after reasoning that Charlton Heston wasn't as cool), shaving his head and growing a twirly circus-strong-man mustache. The choice of an actor as an alter ego is fitting, because Bronson the prisoner considers himself a performer. On the inside, at least, he's going to make a name for himself. He's going to be a star.Certainly that's how Tom Hardy plays him in Bronson, based on a true story. It's a genuinely brilliant portrayal, jaw-dropping in its audacity. Think of Heath Ledger as the Joker in The Dark Knight as a starting point and go from there. This is psychotic behavior as performance art, and Hardy makes it irresistible.
The film is directed in hyperstylized fashion by Nicolas Winding Refn; Bronson often addresses a real audience (at least he does in his head) dressed in tuxedos and evening gowns, in a well-appointed theater. At other times, he addresses the camera directly, his friendly grin turning into a scowl so quickly it startles you.
At other times Refn takes us through a more straightforward account of Bronson's adventures, such as they are. His nondescript early life with decent parents, his foray into crime, his stint at a psychiatric hospital (during which time Hardy's portrayal is so gruesome, it's difficult to watch). Bronson spends a little time on the outside, including a couple of months as a bare-knuckles underground fighter, but he's clearly not suited for that world. An attempt at romance is pathetic, and soon he's back in prison, where he believes he belongs. And he may be right.
Bronson originally received a seven-year sentence for robbing a post office. He would serve more than 30 years, most of them in solitary confinement, for his various violent outbreaks. He has a fondness, for instance, for taking guards hostage, then stripping naked and giving the guards as much of a beating as he can before they overpower him.
In one particularly breathtaking exchange in front of the audience, Bronson makes up half his face as a female administrator. He whips his head from side to side to conduct a heated conversation with her -- in reality, of course, with himself. It's stunning.
Refn doesn't use Bronson as a meditation on punishment or psychology or anything of that sort. Instead, he just lets Hardy go. And why not? This is unhinged genius, an amazing piece of acting. Brutal, yes, but magnetic all the same.
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