Meantime

'Meantime' is a modernist masterpiece, closer to Antonioni than Loach, all the more remarkable for having been made on TV, and transcending the incidentals of portentousness, contrivance and misogyny. Leigh doesn't simply record the monumental, faceless, soulless tenements that dwarf his characters, as a social-realist would: he allows them to shape his narrative, a rigid, static series of concrete tableaux. Leigh doesn't reduce his characters to caricature (a complaint often levelled against him) - Thatcherism does, by removing all those things - hope, work, dreams etc. - that mark humanity and individuality. As bitterly angry and funny as 'Naked'.

This is Mike Leigh's finest film.

It's a shame, but inevitable given the climate of the film world, that he has become celebrated for lesser works such as "Secrets And Lies" and the odious "Vera Drake" which I found almost unwatchably patronising. By contrast, "Meantime" is the truth - as anyone who grew up in 80s London will recognise. It's the truth about what Thatcherism did to the working classes, and to human values in general in Britain. It is not by any means, however, a socialist diatribe. It is instead a gentle and touching portrait of lives ruined by forces beyond their control or comprehension. The film's anger at this injustice is all the more powerful and effective for its understatement. Leigh's other great film, "Naked", abandoned this gentleness for brutality and it suffers in comparison accordingly.

That film was saved from being guilty of the charges of nihilism and point blank bleakness by the extraordinary performances of David Thewlis and the late great Katrin Cartlidge. But the acting in "Meantime" is in many ways even more impressive, as the actors have less material - less BUSINESS - to work with. The nuances of expression, of tones of voice, of body language are an object lesson in how to inject meaning and significance into silences and incoherence. Tim Roth tends to get the plaudits for his unforgettable portrayal of the mentally retarded little brother Colin, but Phil Daniels steals the film for me: his eyes are astonishing in the range of emotional depth they command, and his jerky, uncomfortable movements vividly describe a frustrated intellect driven to despair at the hopelessness surrounding him and the terrible fear that this hopelessness is creeping inside of him. But it is in the way that Daniels's character Mark expresses his love for his helpless and hapless idiot brother that finally secures the film's greatness. This love is fierce and hard-won, and most often manifested in petty abuse. But it is real love, true and unconditional, and the way Roth's character Colin responds to it is immediate and instinctive. The bond between them is the stuff of human dignity itself, and it is this that finally transcends the shuffling pettiness of the life they have had foisted off on them.

The most memorable image may well be Gary Oldman's skinhead Coxy rolling around in a gigantic steel bucket, frantically beating at the sides with a piece of metal - a Beckettian device if ever there was one - but there are so many perfect shots, so much to savour. The crane shot of Daniels aimlessly wandering around Piccadilly Circus, the long shot of Daniels and Oldman disappearing down the canal tow-path, the unexpected close-ups, the sheer range of the camera-work is breathtaking in such a cheaply made film.

If Mike Leigh ever makes a better film, or Phil Daniels ever gives a better performance, it will be a miracle. The fact that the film has gone from almost complete obscurity when it was made (1983) to enjoy a steadily growing cult status is indication that, gradually, more and more people are realising that, far from being a dated curio, this is a very special and precious piece of cinematic art indeed.

An accurate portrait of a family. So touching, there is solidarity behind these harsh dialogues. So funny. It might appear dull, mean, but there is a real human meaning behind it. The old brother tries to educate the younger one who is a bit of a pain one must admit. Watching that film made me feel good, it showed that through mean times there is still something good left in people, poverty creates also solidarity. Something that you don't find so easily in higher social classes. Tim Roth steals the show as the inimitably brilliant Colin Pollock (even the name conjures up an image of backwardness) - and if you ever need proof of the raw talents of a great British actor, watch this film back-to-back with Made in Britain.

The writing is sharper than a knife and in no way is this a gloomy film, and a number of characters introduced for comic effect, the council housing officer. Clichés are nicely avoided at all stages. "Meantime" is a rough and gritty portrait of a dysfunctional council estate family with very little hope for the future, yet the film refuses to wear down the viewer simply by being very funny.

Overall rating: 7 out of 10.

This is Mike Leigh's finest film. Next to this masterpiece his later feature films feel very contrived, it just flows beautifully. It's also very honest, the best depiction of the effects of unemployment I've ever seen on film. But of course as with all Mike Leigh's films it's all about the performances of the actors and they're all pitch perfect. I feel a bit sorry for Tim Roth, his first film role and without a doubt his greatest, how could he ever equal it, it was all downhill from here. A truly heartbreaking performance and if you're not moved by it then you have no empathetic feeling. I also particularly like the performances of Jeff Robert and Pam Ferris as the Mum and Dad. It's a tragedy that this film missed out on getting a theatrical release since it was a few months after it was finished that Channel 4 began shooting on 35mm with a view to feature film distribution. Because it's a 'TV' film it's unjustly ignored in comparison with Leigh's later films, but don't let that put you off, this is a masterpiece. The music is beautiful as well perfectly matching the mood of the film.

Don't really know why but I couldn't look away. Nothing really happens, and no one really says anything, except for an exchange about economics and anthills, but something about it is captivating. Great performances of course are some of that. Saxy is a feral animal.