Mr. Nice

Howard Marks' biography remains one of the more fascinating and erudite, and just plain gobsmaking pieces of the past 20 years. He captured the zeitgeist and his book is full of bathos, bravado, and even some pathos.

The film does not capture this well. Shot in a very linear fashion we get a A-Z account of the life, but it suffers from that film biography sickness of making the events govern - and though we get those events quite frankly it gets pretty dull pretty quickly.

Given the talent here they should have gone for laughs, and though there are some, they are few and far between. What we have ended up with is a mediocre drama about the relationship between the IRA and a drug dealer - and honestly, even though it is viewable, it's not exactly brilliant.

If drugs are your thing I guess you may enjoy it. I was hoping for something less brash, less linear, and just more. The fault lies mainly in the script, the script is just not picking the superb moments that would have lifted this to another level, and is way too "and then this happens."

Given the material this could have been an excellent film, it's just OK.

Nothing really serious, this just tries to entertain you. And it does achieve it most of the time. The acting is really good. Though I'm not sure if this is really based on anything that really happened (and if so, how accurate it did handle it).

The humor is not to everyones taste and there is a weird mixture with drama and adult themes going on. The UK rating still seemed a bit too high for my taste (no pun intended). It must have been the themes it did touch I guess. The story has bumps here and there, that do not allow you to be completely on top of it. Still despite those flaws, there is much fun to be had, with the rest of it.

Howard Marks (Rhys Ifans) grew up in a Welsh village, went to Oxford a relative innocent, and emerged from university as a fully-fledged drug smuggler. He subsequently went on to become one of Britain's most celebrated (notorious?) drug barons, leading an exuberant lifestyle while successfully evading most attempts at capture. Bernard Rose's biopic encourages us to admire Rose's chutzpah, as he encounters a variety of shady characters, including practicing IRA member Jim McCann (David Thewlis, speaking in an eccentric Irish accent), and American cartel owner Ernie Combs (Crispin Glover). The film's tone remains lighthearted throughout, and there are some convincing scenes where modern-day actors are inserted into authentically Seventies archive scenes (complete with washed-out colors). But in truth MR. NICE does not have that much to say, either about the ethics - if there can be such a thing - of drug-smuggling, nor about the lengths to which people will go to try and evade customs-officers of various countries. It remains a rather slight crime-caper, distinguished mostly by Ifans' jaunty performance as Howard Marks.

I hadn't read much about the film before seeing it. Afterwards, I'd say it is one part sexy, stoned, witty fun. One part light-hearted crime caper (almost, but not quite, getting too repetitive). And one part 'serious issues.' The film is very loosely inspired by the life of Howard Marks.

Part One. Howard (Rhys Ifans) goes from a tiny school in Wales to become a successful Oxford graduate, consuming large amounts of marijuana on the way (plus a tiny bit of LSD, probably a lot of sex, and a small amount of alcohol). After Oxford, he gives up drugs to become a teacher. But when a pal is stranded trying to bring a car full of resin home, he kindly steps in and finds it rather lucrative. The difference between someone who smokes and someone he deals is, as he puts it, the first smokes all they have; whereas the second has more than they can humanly smoke. He's drawn into the Secret Service in passing, who like his ability to move between borders and attract ladies.

I found Part One very funny. I have a slight problem with Rhys Ifans looking the same age at the beginning of the film as he does many years later, and after a fairly long stretch in prison. But it didn't distract me from enjoying it. His Welsh humour finds its mark, the comedic editing and timing is flawless, and for anyone over a certain age it has elements of a trip down memory lane. When David Thewlis chimes in (convincingly) as an IRA leader, Jim McCann, offering to supply planes to ferry the stuff over, heavyweight Irish hilarity meets Welsh wit. The head-on result is riotous, and yet never predictable or stilted. Add to that, my favourite fall-in-love-with-the-bad-guy actress, Ms Chloë Sevigny, and I am in for the ride.

Part Two consists of several cat-and-mouse chases as they evade capture. I did wonder if they were going to keep it up till the end of the movie, but it gives me a chance to look out for a tiny cameo by king-of-the bad-boy directors himself, Mr Ken Russell. (Look carefully or you will miss him – in the background at one of the passport check sequences.)

Part Three is when we start to see what the movie's serious undercurrent is, and it accordingly leaps in my estimation. Remember Steven Soderbergh's film, Traffic? If you came out of that thinking every sensible, well-supported argument on legalising marijuana had been made – and still there was no change in government policy – it's time to realise that rational argument is not going to change articles of faith. Can humour help? Mr Nice doesn't make moral judgements. But the natural facts speak for themselves. The main character and his associates never use hard drugs (stated emphatically). There are no perceptible harmful effects (other than Howard and friends enjoying what they do). There are considerable beneficial effects. Especially notable is the scene where a man discovers his partner being unfaithful. We expect violence. If they had been drinking alcohol – a drug with far more proved harmful effects – violence would almost inevitably followed. Instead, they get momentarily outraged: then share a joint. From my limited student experience of the dope-smoking 'scene' many years ago, this is an entirely plausible reaction. The association with 'organised crime' (here, the IRA in the form Jim McCann) is clearly a result of anti-drugs legislation, not the other way around. The misery inflicted is the emphatically the result of anti-drugs legislation, not the use of the drug (Sevigny especially comes into her element with some emotionally moving end-scenes. Yes, I did shed a tear. And Sevigny managed a very nice English accent to boot).

The filmmakers must have wondered if smoking marijuana would be decriminalised before Mr Nice was released – but the UK government, in one of the many pre-election scandals, ignored the advice of its own experts and continued to include hash in the 'war on drugs.' As Soderbergh said years ago, "We can't have a frank discussion with our policymakers - if you're in the government or in law enforcement you cannot acknowledge that drugs are anything but inherently evil and morally wrong." Bottom line: there is too much money and jobs tied up in 'drugs enforcement' to legalise them. But I should stress that this is my 'reading' of the film. Someone opposed to decriminalisation might reach an entirely different conclusion, and from watching the very same film.

On the downside, two hours of largely hash-based comedy could be very wearisome for anyone that hasn't had at least passing familiarity with the stuff. Other complaints might include Rhys Ifans not seeing him get his shirt off often enough (though I lost count of the number of times he did). Or whether Ms Sevigny used a stand-in for the brief times her shirt was off. On the plus side, it made me proud that Britain could turn out solid, constructive comedy. Rather than kitchen-sink drama based (as Ken Russell might say) on 'football in the Midlands.' Sometimes laughter, well done, can maybe reach places that common sense alone cannot reach.

Mr Nice is a rare beast of a film, it swaggers, it spits, it dreams, it punches, it laughs, it cries and of course and likely above all it gets stoned.

Howard Marks is the central character played effortlessly by Rhys Ifans, a welsh school boy turned big city student and pothead. We see Marks transformation through a series of off beat scenes in which director Bernard Rose reflects on Marks' humble, banal yet honest origins. Then our protagonist through a combination youthful substance experimentation and a fateful convergence of circumstances is established as an international Drug smuggler,

We are gradually introduced to a plethora of interesting characters that vary from casual love interests to drug dealing allies, who materialise as Ifans travels deeper into Marks' world of dope, dealing and debauchery. Amongst the group are fine supporting efforts notably from David Thewlis who delivers the hilariously cranky IRA terrorist turned middle man Jim. Chloë Sevigny convinces as the overly supportive wife and mother Judy and Omid Djalili sparkles intermittently as the Pakistani pusher Saleem Malik.

The film takes us through the tumultuous times of sex, drugs, betrayal, greed, prison and pot which Marks and his merry men navigate their way through against a lush backdrop of 70's pastiche. By the time we get to the stories conclusion we have great connections with the characters motives as a result of the superb cast and due to an impressive directorial mesh of humour and grit from Rose what's left is the best British film of the year to date.

8/10