City Rats

I was intrigued by the opening to this film and the rooftop shots immediately set off a bout of involuntary, recoil muscle twitching (don't they put guard rails on the roofs of those buildings?). The sombre mood and beautifully lit scenes were drawing me in.

I had mixed feelings about the presence of Danny Dyer, who was excellent in Straightheads, but has made some terrible film choices at times. A comment from one of the most critical reviewers, saying, "Such a waste to see Danny Dyer go from the likes of The Business & Football Factory to films like this", is one of the funniest things I have ever read.

The appearance of the utterly wonderful Susan Lynch immediately bestowed all the credibility a film ever needs, and I thought she looked absolutely stunning here, albeit in a wonderfully seedy yet secretly vulnerable way.

It was the frustrated artist who I had problems with and felt the idea of his fleeting gay relationship unconvincing. The gay brothers (one of them autistic) was also a highly contrived scenario, seemingly included purely to satisfy the director's desire to film some gay club action. The thumping club music also obscured some of the dialogue that was necessary to understand exactly what was supposed to be taking place.

Mumbled or poorly recorded dialogue also left me not knowing how the nurse with Danny Dyer could possible have had a son by a man who she had never kissed and was in a coma (at least that's how it came across to me). It wasn't until the very end, when I was wondering how the characters came together, that I deduced that Danny Dyer was somehow related to the two brothers.

In conclusion, there was a lot wrong with this film but there was some good acting in spite of the dodgy plot and the film itself did actually look good. I refuse to give any film with Susan Lynch in it less that seven stars.

Watch this movie right until the end. Weigh them altogether an I'm sure everyone did a pretty good job!

/Having to write text just ......, 150.,.......,....

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Danny Dyer. On the cover. Holding a gun. Must be another cockney gangster film methinks, but I couldn't be more wrong. What we have here is a dull and depressing drama in which several scuzzy Londoners cross paths during their everyday lives. No hard geezers carrying sawn-offs. No bent rozzers taking a bung. No suited and booted chancers ducking and diving. Just a whole lot of suicide, sex, murder and drugs, with a masturbating artist, a crippled hooker, a drunken ex-con, a mother looking for her dead son, a self destructive man and woman, and a gay autistic deaf bloke looking to get laid with a little help from his brother. While all of this sounds like the recipe for a sleazy slice of fun, the drama is played out in a very measured (ie., boring) manner, and frequently enters pretentious art-house territory, meaning that most Dyer fans will think it's a load of old pony. I did.

This film promises much more than it delivers. I am not necessarily a fan boy of films such as Football Factory, or The Business, which portray Danny Dyer et. al. as cheeky cockney chappies who aren't nice guys but we empathise with and indeed, I applaud Messrs Dyer, and Hassan for taking a film with roles which are far more challenging and require far more acting talent than previously seen from them. They are thoroughly fantastic throughout and earned a star each in this review for their outstanding performances of what is an awful concept, and, quite frankly, script.

I do not want to include any spoilers, but it appears that this film, as mentioned by way2grimee is mere arty farty rubbish. It is a film for films sake and as such neglects the audience throughout. It appears the concept of the film drove the dialogue, and this results in a choppy narrative that has been described as 'like pulp fiction', but actually just seemed more like pulp...soggy, and with little substance. It fails to deliver any satisfying character development, leaving a total lack of empathy or understanding for the characters. I also agree with way2grimee that the sexual scenes, both homo and hetero, appear to be there for no other reason than gratuity and controversy and indeed, using cinematic suggestion the same effect on the storyline, and what scant character development there was, could have been achieved, possibly in a much better, more subtle and less brick-through-a-window fashion.

As mentioned, I am not a particular fan boy of the British gangster genre, and this therefore in no way swayed my opinion. I do like to support the British film industry, but, unfortunately it seems to be aiming to be more and more pretentious with each film. Everyone in the UK business seems to be so generically British in wanting to show the worst in everything...This film reeked of "Ooh look at how seedy London is"-ness, by someone whose experience of the seediness of London is accidentally talking to a homeless man on his way home from an organic fruit and vegetable stall at Borough Market.

Simon Fantauzzo, the writer, strikes me as someone who has spent far too much time studying film and writing itself, and not enough time on cinematography, and trying to engage the audience; as such this movie falls so flat on its face that I feel its release could easily feature on You've Been Framed. Controversial? yes, edgy? perhaps; but engaging? No way.

STAR RATING: ***** Saturday Night **** Friday Night *** Friday Morning ** Sunday Night * Monday Morning

London is a city full of people, moving about in droves, with little time for each other, facing straight ahead and barely noticing each other exists. From the top looking down below, people might well appear like 'rats', scurrying about to whatever garbage bin has attracted their attention. No one appears to have the time to look in the more solitary corners and see the sorry state of affairs going on there. In short, it's a terrible place to be lonely and stared down at. Yet the main characters presented in City Rats, each one linked to each other in some way which we find out about as the story goes on, prompt the sort of contempt which makes us inflict this grim fate on them but as events roll on, we are forced to see them in a different light and see less judgemental reasoning for how things turned out like they did for them. Starting with the ex drug dealer trying to buckle down to an honest living who is approached by the mother of a guy he used to know to help track him down, we move on to a wife beater separated from his family who whiles away his time dropping water melons from tall buildings and sharing phone sex with a crippled prostitute who finds herself the interest of a poet who lives on the floor below her. Meanwhile, a man takes his deaf, autistic brother on a tour around seedy Soho to help him lose his virginity and come to terms with his homosexuality.

Maybe we don't have the best actors to play them, but this is still a very impressive character study, that has a clever use of atmosphere, mood and soundtrack to engross us in what's going on. The whole 'water melons dropping from a building' thing is a bit weird and not explained properly but Tamer Hassan's character develops the most, with his relationship with a similarly suicidal young woman which has a devastating, abrupt conclusion. A small film with some flaws, but enough going on beneath the surface to make it shine. ****