Dom Hemingway

A disorienting and ultimately disarming movie about a brutal Cockney ex-con with Jude Law playing a part Bob Hoskins would have played 25 years ago. With slicked back, receding hair and mutton chops, Law acquits himself very convincingly as a profane, poetic thug. Just saw this film at the Toronto International Film Festival and it's very entertaining, edgy and often gripping, with a satisfyingly soft heart, given all the criminality portrayed. Props to Richard E. Grant as his wiser sidekick and the rest of a wholly believable cast, most of whom I don't recognize. Dom is a character akin to the crazed gangster played by Ben Kingsley in Sexy Beast and you can see why Law would relish this part. And he attacks it with relish, bravado and just enough vulnerability to actually make this brute likable. You end up rooting for him due not only to story circumstances, but his basic humanity despite his despicable behaviour. I don't know if real Cockney gangsters would buy Law in the part, but I did. Worth seeing.

Dom Hemingway is trying to add something new to the heritage of the great gangster-comedies of Guy Ritchie and Martin McDonagh, but it's trying too hard, and eventually it fails. Every scene is trying to be more bizarre and shocking than the last one, but they're rarely funny. The dialogues want to be witty and to be remembered, but actually they're just over-the-top curses and insults by the characters. Dom Hemingway (played amazingly by Jude Law) is not a hero, but also not an anti-hero: he's just a pathetic man who's getting drunk and high for the most part of the movie. They're waiting too long to add some dramatic depth to his character.

It has a couple of funny moments, but this movie is just too forced to be naturally funny. If you want to watch a film with a similar mood, but done better, I would recommend Filth for you.

As soon as the film started and Dom (Jude Law) begins a near 2 minute long speech proudly stating his admiration for a certain part of his anatomy, there was only one thing running through my mind; This is incredibly similar Tom Hardy's role as Bronson in the 2008 film; a watered down one.

The accent, the pronunciation and overall persona from Dom Hemingway just screams Bronson. If you haven't seen Bronson then you won't be able to associate it as easily and probably will enjoy the character more. I don't bring it up to in any way discourage Jude Law's performance; it is a great portrayal of a banged up Londoner who's out for financial retribution. A role you really can't associate with Jude Law and he does it justice on so many levels. It's not him that's the problem, it's the character. Not just the Bronson comparison, but the constant ranting throughout the film; full of synonyms and thesaurus like tirades. It becomes very repetitive.

There are some really funny moments, but like with the rest of the film the comedy starts to become slightly tedious. It is Dickie (Richard E Grant) who produces a lot of the witty comedy; he is funny throughout.

Still, a fairly good film with some good performances, violence, comedy, and a story of a hopeful father/daughter reconciliation to add to that.

When a film starts with a Shakespearian monologue of several minutes about the qualities of a sexual organ, you know you're in for something special. Hearing Jude Law going on about his penis ('It's a work of art, it should be in the Louvre, it's like a soldier, it can stand up all day') is definitely funny, and makes one admire his acting talent.

In this film, Jude Law is light-years removed from the fine and civilized English gentleman we know from so many of his films. With his Cockney accent, sideburns and streetwise stride, he plays an utterly despicable human being. Dom Hemingway is an egotistic, rude, violent, uncivilized and vulgar criminal. The film starts with his release from jail after twelve years of imprisonment, and shows him in a series of bizarre events, involving colourful characters and outrageous situations.

This could have been enough for a nice film. Hemingway's unsavoury character, and the very colourful way he speaks, are perfect basis ingredients for a hard boiled, no-holds-barred, crime-comedy. Unfortunately, the screenplay writer found it necessary to include a melodramatic side-story, probably intended to show that Hemingway does have a heart, after all. The subplot with his daughter and grandson are an unnecessary attempt to include an emotional dimension in the film. This film doesn't need that. It would have been far better if Hemingway wouldn't have gone soft-hearted over his grandson.

It's an unfortunate flaw for this film, which above all showcases Jude Law's acting talent. His acting is indeed wonderful: Hemingway is completely believable. Law succeeds in creating an outrageous character, without overdoing it. This is an enjoyable film, but nothing more.

"A man with no options suddenly has all the options in the world", says the chain-smoking, whiskey-muddled, and articulate but filthy Dom Hemingway. Proclaimed the greatest safe-cracker of the ages, Dom Hemingway (Jude Law, Closer) is back on the streets after twelve years of solitude (twelve years is a running theme of 2013, it seems). His daughter grown up, his partner without his left hand, and in dire need of his earnings, he pursues his criminal associates (a twirly moustache Frenchman, surprise) in search of his deserved reward. Verbose and foul, Dom is a walking thesaurus, a drunken Shakespearean, using more words in a sentence than one should in a lifetime – for example, the opening sequence is a two-and-a-half minute monologue about his cock. That about sums up Dom Hemingway, an enjoyable albeit shallow dark comedy.

A watered down Bronson, a film of similar premise, Dom Hemingway is delightfully dark, similar to his psyche – he is disgusting, filthy, violent and loud, but he retains an iota of charm, one of the few things dragging the film along. Bearing numerous similarities to Refn's prisoner character study, Dom Hemingway is truly a visual feast: the pumping nightlife of downtown London is full of colour and life. The screen is constantly full of greens and yellows, reds and pinks – it isn't dull to look at. While it isn't as intrusive and cerebral as Refn's terrifying glimpse into the mind of a madman, Dom Hemingway and Bronson share two familiar traits: a strong cockney accent and a loud mouth.

While they may retain similarities, they are largely superficial – I must apologise for my comparison of the two, they are different films, but it fluently highlights Dom Hemingway's numerous flaws. Dom's charisma simply doesn't compare to that of Bronson's, from the way he carries himself to the way he walks through the streets and alleys. While the loud and ostentatious Bronson was an addict to attention, Dom slinks into the shadows the way he slinks into a chair; sleazy and slouched. When opportune, he indulges in delightful monologue, Shakespearean in his formidable vocabulary, but it all tastes a slight bit overdone. The script, like Hemingway himself, is largely self-indulgent and masturbatory, and is surely tiresome.

Ignoring the occasionally obnoxious monologue, Dom powerfully commands the screen, even if his persona is quite the opposite. Separated from his cigarettes and whiskey for twelve years, he takes great pleasure in his intoxicated over-indulgement. For example, over three days Dom compensates for twelve years of seclusion with alcohol, drugs and prostitutes – but it doesn't really work, he just ends up very hungover indeed. Such is the life of Dom Hemingway, fuelled by toxicants and greed, when there really are better things to do – reconnect with his long-since abandoned daughter perhaps. Dom's antithesis, his daughter Evelyn (Emelia Clarke, Game of Thrones), is a force to be reckoned with; the opposite of her father's boisterous exterior, she is instead quiet and passive. Contrasting the pounding nightclubs of London, she sings in a country club, her voice soft and soothing compared to her father's loose and loud tongue.

Unfortunately, Dom Hemingway has little punch. The first act is incredibly enjoyable, but act by act, its quality subsides. Fast paced exposition, into an extremely average midpoint, into an abysmal climax (I must admit I enjoyed the final scene), it grew less and less entertaining. Dom Hemingway forgot what it set out to be – its foul-mouthed, violent charm was abducted and replaced by a crowd-pleasing father-daughter subplot. It was unnecessary, contrived, and clichéd. The obnoxious American's shoehorned exposition was similarly sloppy, revealing the (already obvious) moral of the story in last-minute exposition – it became extremely unnecessary and artificial.

Jude Law performs excellently, as does the majority of the cast, yet Hemingway's left-hand-less right-hand man Dickie (Richard E. Grant, The Corpse Bride) completely steals the show, injecting wit and energy into every scene, contrasting Hemingway's rambunctious bluntness. Unfortunately, it isn't enough to elevate Dom Hemingway's paradoxically undercooked-while-overcooked dialogue. With an over-emphasis on Hemingway's verbose monologue and an under-emphasis on every else, Dom Hemingway is a superficial, attractive, generally fun film with little depth – I'm sure no one would be bothered if they saw this as a rental, but I wouldn't suggest going out of your way for it.

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