BRUTAL, SARDONIC, VIOLENT, intelligent and astonishingly articulate, few characters from Mike Leigh's impressive body of work have had quite the same lasting impact as Johnny from his 1993 masterpiece, Naked. Devised in collaboration with actor David
Thewlis, he's Leigh's most memorable creation primarily because he's simultaneously so magnetic and repulsive. On a verbal level, he's able to dazzle with rants about the miserable state of the world fuelled both by persuasive logic and profound frustration at the conclusions he repeatedly reaches. Yet his articulacy is contrasted with a feral physicality and aggressive disposition that's difficult to warm to. With his mangy hair and manky clothes, he's a human rat in a trap from which he can't escape, despite – or perhaps because of – his intelligence.
That Leigh wants us on edge is clear from the off: the first scene features Johnny apparently raping a woman in an alleyway in Manchester. This act forces him to flee to London, where he takes refuge with his kind-natured ex-girlfriend (Lesley Sharp) and her flatmate (played by the late Katrin Cartlidge), before proceeding to leave behind a string of emotional casualties.
Among them are Ewen Bremner (in one of his first roles) as a ranting, homeless Scot, and Peter Wright, as a lonely office security guard whose offer of shelter facilitates the film's most astounding sequence as Johnny deconstructs the evil of modern capitalist society with biblical fury.
That it all works so seamlessly is testament to Thewlis's masterful performance; his innate understanding of the character prevents Johnny from ever seeming like a political mouthpiece, while simultaneously allowing Leigh to interrogate the disintegrating social structure of modern Britain.
Leigh pulls off a similar trick with his latest, Happy-Go-Lucky. Almost a counterpoint to Naked, it's also dominated by a brilliantly constructed character whose outlook on life is so extreme it has a tendency to overwhelm and wrongfoot people. This is Poppy (an excellent, break-out performance from Sally Hawkins), a north London primary teacher whose relentless optimism and sunny disposition makes her the polar opposite of Johnny. The film casts her on a similar odyssey, only this time it's the character's humanism rather than bile that gradually exposes the rampant consumerism that seems to drive modern society. Once again, though, this isn't some preachy message movie. It's Leigh's most joyous picture to date, although watching it after Naked does convince you that its title will eventually be revealed to be ironic. Relax, though: it's not.
It's easy enough to relax into Lars and the Real Girl too. True, it may be about a loner embarking on a relationship with a sex doll, but the film dispenses with any icky sexual connotations early on to serve up a surprisingly sweet and understated oddity. Put that down to Ryan Gosling, who digs deep to find plenty of empathy in his portrayal of the titular Lars, a damaged soul quietly reeling from a tragedy in his past that has inhibited his ability to interact with people. This changes when he brings home Bianca – an anatomically correct doll upon whom his delusional mind confers elaborate human characteristics. If this sounds egregiously quirky, that's because it is, but give in to its charms and you'll be rewarded with a heartening film about the value of human connection.
The full article contains 581 words and appears in The Scotsman newspaper.
