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It is fair to say that Mullan knows a thing or two about British cinema. Having starred and supported in features from Ken Loach's 'Riff-Raff' and 'My Name is Joe', to 'Braveheart', 'Ordinary Decent Criminal' and Danny Boyle's 'Trainspotting' he has had the opportunity to work with some the biggest names in cinema. This is not to say that his career thus far has been in any way prolific, but he has certainly transcended his roots as a teenage member of a street gang in suburban Glasgow. Although McGill and Mullan share this background in common, as well as having endured the experience of growing up with an alcoholic and abusive father, Mullan assures us that 'NEDS' is ''personal but not autobiographical''. He accounts for a transition from this destructive existence to a career in acting, -
"Most actors I know come from a screwed up background, so it makes sense that if you can walk on to a space and recreate your reality, then that's the place that will become very dear.''
This appears to explain Mullan's drive to rise above what would otherwise seem a bleak and insular place in which he, and many teenagers, have found themselves. He also offers an insight into an almost alchemist ability to procure a career from amidst the 'would-be' self-fulfilling-prophecy of a Glaswegian gang member, -
"I worked with murderers for a long time after I left university - one thing you realise about the gangs and the criminals is that it's acting by another means. If you go into a bank or a shop and you want them to believe that you're going to shoot them, that's an acting exercise. If you want to turn to someone else who's as tooled up as you are and persuade them to put their knife down because you'll use your knife, that's an acting exercise. Nine out of 10 delinquents are frustrated actors."
If 9 out of 10 NEDS are frustrated actors, then Mullan speaks to us from the perspective of 1 out of 1000s of them who actually get to act in a conventional sense. In this case, who better to portray the problems faced by the forgotten teenagers of suburban Glasgow? The tag line 'Some people need to be taught a lesson', poses a gloriously apt double entendre.
With 'NEDS' Mullan responds, ''Who will teach them''?
With 'NEDS' Mullan responds, ''Who will teach them''?
I'm almost ashamed to admit that although I have had nothing but respect for the vast majority of Mullan's acting career, having still seen neither 'Orphans' or 'The Magdalene Sisters', I was acutely aware of a remote expectation for 'NEDS' to fulfil the criteria of a sensationalist and misguided attempt at 'social-realism-for-the-masses'. This is due to the fact that I have found myself becoming largely disillusioned by the attempts of many directors in the latter part of last decade to create gritty-yet-glossy realism by either sensationalising violence and/or by employing irrelevant dream sequences in an attempt to elevate the film to 'cult' status. I have found this increasingly done without regard to cohesion, consistency, and paradoxically, without candour to the reality of the situation they intend to honour. Without getting too distracted, 'Football Factory', 'Cass', 'Rise of the Foot Soldier', 'Outlaw', 'Adulthood' (the list goes on and on) are, for me, the epitome of this misdirection. I feel that achieving the juxtaposition of gritty/ glossy requires tremendous skill, sensitivity, and compassion for the subject matter to avoid merely achieving dichotomy.
Well done Shane Meadows, to name but-one pioneer in striking a balance.
At the the risk of simply naming films, I must draw to attention the context in which Mullan attempts to honour this ''personal'' depiction of his background. Having worked under the direction of the aforementioned Ken Loach and Danny Boyle, as well as among his more recent contemporaries in social realism,- Shane Meadows, Paddy Considine, Gary Oldman etc, Mullan's aspirations surely lie somewhere among these great successes of British Cinema. Pressure to bring to the forum the written, directorial and stylistic skills of his contemporaries could potentially establish Mullan as not only a formidable British actor, but as an auteur.
In my opinion, 'NEDS' does exactly this.
Mullan bravely and successfully 'palms-off' any self-imposed obligation to sensationalise or gloss over the subject matter, and replaces this with symbolism and cinematography which lends itself seamlessly to the plot. Particularly during chase or fight scenes the camerawork and locations are utilised skilfully in capturing the insular, claustrophobic, and pointless inevitability of proceedings. A maze of paths, bridges and alleyways reflect the urban decay in which these gangs have been left to their own devices and from which most will not escape.
Where appropriate, the camera and sound work instills a cold and imposing portrayal of more personal and individual events of violence,- particularly in perhaps the film's most violent and disturbing scene in a graveyard, the camera remains still, and the score quiet. This specific scene is effective in drawing attention to the mindless nature of this violence, and it's personal implications upon the victim, but also upon the perpetrator. This very intentional method of treating incidents of violence is extremely successful in avoiding any sensationalism, gloss, or voyeurism that detracts from reality of committing such violent acts. Mullan should be applauded for this sensitive, sympathetic and responsible choice of what he wishes to portray.
The progressive return to themes throughout this film run concurrently with McGill's cyclic struggle to rise above his surroundings. His awareness and disdain for becoming a product of his environment is demonstrated succinctly and consistently in his exchanges with teachers in whom he entrusts his hope, efforts, and most importantly, his potential. Mullan uses the constant let-downs that McGill and his peers face in the classroom as a basis for another symbolic theme, - the internal struggle between the pen and the sword. For McGill, indulging a return to the sword eventually becomes an act of a literal metamorphosis.
However, perhaps my favourite, most poignant and subtle piece of symbolism in 'NEDS' was the oft repeated image of Mullan's teenagers jumping off playground swings an spinning them around the frame above (the act of swinging an object from a secure point is featured at other intervals during the film although I'll avoid spoilers). I'm sure this is a familiar pastime for many youngsters (it certainly featured heavily in my youth), however, for a NED, this very aptly represents the spiral to break free of these roots and avoid the inevitable redundancy of them becoming tangled. The act of jumping free of this spiral may be a playful sign of boredom, but also nods to a quixotic transcendence from a childhood of hopelessness to a life of promise. Some of the most iconic fight scenes take place on bridges, with each gang facing one-another on each side. This head to head conflict again emphasises the pointlessness and distinct lack of outside perspective taking place on what should be, a structure of transition or even transcendence. What really prevails here is Mullan's understanding and empathy for these children, - never condemning them for their terrible acts of violence. Their pathways have led them to this bridge, and will continue to do so.
It is clear that Mullan intended to honour his upbringing as truthfully as possible. The setting, language, costume, music, script and direction remain uncompromised in capturing every nuance emanating from the experience of growing up in 1970s Glasgow. Mullan has not failed to capture the humour, friendship, love and compassion that punctuate the violence of this upbringing. In appreciating 'NEDS', it becomes clear that the narratives of the film's characters are only as important as the social conditioning to which they are afforded. With this I felt that 'NEDS' offered me an insight into this microcosm as much as it told me a story. McGill's relationship with his father was far from an oblique picture of abuser/abused. Mullan's portrayal of Mr McGill depicted an image of alcoholic degradation rather than inherent abusiveness. When their relationship begins to manifest itself as destructive, it is then developed in such a way that it becomes clear that McGill's conflict lies not with his father, but what his father represents, and what McGill ultimately has begun to recognise in himself,- the embodiment of the social degradation surrounding him. With this, Mullan reaffirms the ever-present allusion to social conditioning, while skilfully avoiding the condemnation of his characters. For me, this elevates NEDS from replicating a successful-but-formulaic template of dramatic social realism, laid down by Mullan's predecessors, to bringing me something new and insightful.
Mullan takes his time (124 mins) to set his scene and allow us to acquaint ourselves with the world from which McGill endeavours to escape. The development of this context and the characterisation of the film's protagonist is key in introducing us to this 'coming-of-age' descent into delinquency. Here we become aware of the relentless pressures he put upon himself to pursue a life incongruous with his surroundings, while matched with the perfunctory assistance of those to whom his future is entrusted, - the teachers, parents, and policemen with whom each transaction become a 'face-off'.
It's easy to forgive Mullan for some scenes of less-than-covert religious symbolism, given, not only his Roman Catholic upbringing, or perhaps his homage to filmmakers of his youth (particularly evocative of the dreamlike sequences of Ken Russell or Lindsay Anderson) but the skill and continuity in which these are adapted to the storyline. Iconic emphasis upon redemption in the film's final scenes are simultaneously shameless and beautiful. He achieves this with both tears and laughter, perhaps allowing Mullan further transcendence from among his contemporaries to cult status, without compromising painful and poignant realism.
I suppose time will tell, but during the interim, other British directors should take note of what Mullan has done with 'NEDS' and join me in 'watching this space'.
Where appropriate, the camera and sound work instills a cold and imposing portrayal of more personal and individual events of violence,- particularly in perhaps the film's most violent and disturbing scene in a graveyard, the camera remains still, and the score quiet. This specific scene is effective in drawing attention to the mindless nature of this violence, and it's personal implications upon the victim, but also upon the perpetrator. This very intentional method of treating incidents of violence is extremely successful in avoiding any sensationalism, gloss, or voyeurism that detracts from reality of committing such violent acts. Mullan should be applauded for this sensitive, sympathetic and responsible choice of what he wishes to portray.
The progressive return to themes throughout this film run concurrently with McGill's cyclic struggle to rise above his surroundings. His awareness and disdain for becoming a product of his environment is demonstrated succinctly and consistently in his exchanges with teachers in whom he entrusts his hope, efforts, and most importantly, his potential. Mullan uses the constant let-downs that McGill and his peers face in the classroom as a basis for another symbolic theme, - the internal struggle between the pen and the sword. For McGill, indulging a return to the sword eventually becomes an act of a literal metamorphosis.
However, perhaps my favourite, most poignant and subtle piece of symbolism in 'NEDS' was the oft repeated image of Mullan's teenagers jumping off playground swings an spinning them around the frame above (the act of swinging an object from a secure point is featured at other intervals during the film although I'll avoid spoilers). I'm sure this is a familiar pastime for many youngsters (it certainly featured heavily in my youth), however, for a NED, this very aptly represents the spiral to break free of these roots and avoid the inevitable redundancy of them becoming tangled. The act of jumping free of this spiral may be a playful sign of boredom, but also nods to a quixotic transcendence from a childhood of hopelessness to a life of promise. Some of the most iconic fight scenes take place on bridges, with each gang facing one-another on each side. This head to head conflict again emphasises the pointlessness and distinct lack of outside perspective taking place on what should be, a structure of transition or even transcendence. What really prevails here is Mullan's understanding and empathy for these children, - never condemning them for their terrible acts of violence. Their pathways have led them to this bridge, and will continue to do so.
Mullan takes his time (124 mins) to set his scene and allow us to acquaint ourselves with the world from which McGill endeavours to escape. The development of this context and the characterisation of the film's protagonist is key in introducing us to this 'coming-of-age' descent into delinquency. Here we become aware of the relentless pressures he put upon himself to pursue a life incongruous with his surroundings, while matched with the perfunctory assistance of those to whom his future is entrusted, - the teachers, parents, and policemen with whom each transaction become a 'face-off'.
It's easy to forgive Mullan for some scenes of less-than-covert religious symbolism, given, not only his Roman Catholic upbringing, or perhaps his homage to filmmakers of his youth (particularly evocative of the dreamlike sequences of Ken Russell or Lindsay Anderson) but the skill and continuity in which these are adapted to the storyline. Iconic emphasis upon redemption in the film's final scenes are simultaneously shameless and beautiful. He achieves this with both tears and laughter, perhaps allowing Mullan further transcendence from among his contemporaries to cult status, without compromising painful and poignant realism.
I suppose time will tell, but during the interim, other British directors should take note of what Mullan has done with 'NEDS' and join me in 'watching this space'.
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