#WTW: Shallow Grave

(#WhatThomWatched seven....)

Shallow Grave

(Danny Boyle, 1994; Criterion spine 616)

The three primary characters in Shallow Grave, the great Danny Boyle’s (and writer John Hodge’s) first theatrical film, are as unlikable as they come; many read Ewan McGregor’s character as having earned some kind of redemption at the end, but the alternative view that each horrible flatmate deserves exactly what he or she gets (or doesn’t get) seems most credible (people may simply be seduced by McGregor’s laughing blue eyes, and who can blame them?) Boyle’s deployment of minimal resources deserves to be studied as an exemplar of how low-budget can be stylish to a fault. The taut 90-minute story is as simple as can be: three young professional friends take in a fourth roomer who immediately turns up dead, leaving a suitcase of cash. How the friends deal with the body, the money, and each other comprises the rest of the film. You fully expect alliances to form and shift, and some players to be more mentally and emotionally capable than others, but the actual paths those shifts take is unpredictable and exciting. Loud, splashy events occur, as both police and a terrifying pair of remorseless killers close in on the money, but it’s equally rewarding to follow the adjusting mental states of the friends when paranoia sets in, visible through their narrowing eyes and behind their tight expressions.

Reminds me of:

Trainspotting, inevitably; that crawling troll doll (first in the overindulgence montage and later in McGregor’s nightmares) seems directly transported to Renton’s drug trips and a similar baby doll. And having recently watched the Mark Cousins documentary series The Story of Film, my antennae were up for the opening “phantom ride” shots; sped-up footage from a camera mounted on a car streaking through Edinburgh, evoking something out-of-control that might be going on behind the staid rows of Scottish flats. It’s a striking touch that doesn’t immediately connect to the following scene — turns out the rider is just a nice boring bloke who is answering an ad for a room — but once we begin to understand the sick game that our three heroes are playing with him (and many other hopefuls), the visual starts to make sense.

Speaking of visual connections — albeit ones that are clearly coincidental and specific to #WTW! — having just posted images for Youth of the Beast, I couldn’t help but notice scenes with Kerry Fox that evoked it, both the tower of champagne glasses and (more viciously) the point of her black shoe threateningly pushing on McGregor’s chest after he’s fallen on the dance floor — of course that move is aggressively seductive in Grave, but the unintended echo left it tasting perverse and violent.

(And to give the final actor in the trio his (geek-out) due: Christopher Eccleston is phenomenal here as an easily damaged milquetoast . . . . and, yes, it had to come out sooner or later — I’m a Doctor Who fan (both old and Nu), and Eccleston is far and above my favorite Doctor of the modern series.)

But also — the guilt!

I don’t like (or get) Slumdog Millionaire, or at least I didn’t when it came out — maybe I’ll give it another chance, someday, but I’ve got several other Boyle films to see first: Millions, his lightly comedic take on a similar found-money setup; or certainly Sunshine, or last year’s Trance.

There’s some controversy among the fans about the ending — not about its quality, but about whether events occur exactly as shown, or if we’re meant to understand that the literal action is an ironic counterpoint to reality. I must report that Boyle’s commentary on the Criterion disk gives a definitive answer and that it’s not the one I would personally prefer. I’m sure this is my (true?) cynical self coming out, but I prefer a worldview where none of these characters gets an out. I might just choose to read my own implications into the final scene even in the face of authorial intent. (Hmmph; between this and the admission about the Ninth Doctor above I may have just lost half my audience — that’s a whole one of you!)

Pitch:

I get creepy-crawly (in the best way) as McGregor climbs up into the unfinished attic space and we see what Eccelston and his efforts have wrought there — I won’t spoil it with a picture. Is it strictly realistic? I don’t think it is, or has to be. To me it’s a perfect example of art direction used to create a film image in service to the story (and to the mental states of its characters) without necessarily being literal. One thing is sure — more movies should pay this much attention to their look.

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