Once Upon a Time in the Midlands

`Once upon a time in the midlands' is the next instalment from Nottingham director Shane Meadows, indeed it concludes his `Nottingham trilogy' along with previous efforts `Twentyfourseven' and `A Room for Romeo Brass'

I saw this film at its world premier as part of Directors fortnight at Cannes, and I am glad to say that it surpassed all my expectations. It's a tale of a loner Jimmy (Robert Carlyle) who by chance manages to see his ex, Shirley (Shirley Henderson) on a television show turning down a proposal from her new boyfriend on national television, this prompts Jimmy to return to Nottingham and try to win her back, along with the Daughter (a brilliant debut from 12 year old Finn Atkins) he also left years previously. There's just a few problems for Jimmy on the way, Shirley's wimpy yet loving new bloke Dek (Rhys Ifans), Jimmys mouthy step sister and her wannabe country singer husband (Kathy Burke and Ricky Tomlinson) not forgetting his shady friends who pursue him down south after he rips them off after a strange robbery goes horribly wrong.

All members of the cast shine and its fun to see a `western' style angle being adopted – the classic tale of a loner coming into town to win back his girl, chased by villains and ready for a final confrontation with the man who his girl is now hooked up with. I hope this film gets the exposure it deserves when its released in the UK.

When they appear on a daytime chat show, Dek surprises his girlfriend Shirley by proposing to her, only to have her say no. Shirley's ex and father of her daughter, Marlene, sees the show and leaves Glasgow with stolen money to try to reclaim her. His arrival in the one-horse town of Nottingham sparks a Western style stand off between Dek and Jimmy.

The third part in his trilogy is Meadow's most accessible film and his lightest in style. It is also likely to be FilmFour's swan-song now that it is packing up shop for good. The plot is basically a relationship drama but it is packed with enough nice touches to make it feel more than that. The mix of comedy and drama is good and the `tinned spaghetti western' feel to it manages to be clever and consistent without overpowering the film.

The story does dip in the final third however – the comedy dries up and the central drama between Jimmy, Dek and Shirley comes to the fore. The other characters vanish and the subplot (Jimmy being chased by his ex-gang) just seems to stop for 30 minutes. This dip is still OK but it did feel like it had nowhere to go and was just treading water to fill out the running time.

Apart from this dip the film has much to enjoy. The comedy is good and realistic for the setting. The many characters make for a family feel rather than a simple love triangle tale and the western music and spaghetti clichés are used well without being forced down your throat. The film does also rest on several really good performances.

Ifans is absolutely great – he manages to make Dek a cowardly clown but also very relateable and sympathetic. Add to this a good (if a little mousy) Henderson and a superb turn by Atkins and the main trio are brilliant. Carlyle doesn't work as well and his character is too obvious, changing when he has got his way etc, and doesn't grab attention in the way he can. Burke, Tomlinson and the various support cast are very funny but also very real. Cosmo is good and tough as always and gets plenty of surreal comedy (why do they keep stealing wholly inappropriate vehicles!?) and key a sharp eye out for a downright unusual cameo from comedy duo Vic Reeves and bob Mortimer.

Overall the parts don't all manage to come together but for the most part it is a great mix of comedy and drama carried off by some very good performances. However when the film focuses totally on the triangle at the centre it appears to run out of steam for a while and have little to do but wait for the final showdown.

The hidden theme in this film is insipid. The daughter Marlene is the adult, while her parents, Jimmy and Shirley, are still children. Jimmy's primary school labeled him the toughest little booger in his class, and he still absurdly relishes the role. Shirley is a silly oversized thirteen-year-old who has two boys interested in her, and she flits back and forth between them as her adolescent whims take her. However, Marlene (the chronological child) is the adult who knows exactly what's best for all. Dek is also a grown-up: responsible, hard-working and kind, although naive.

Near the end Marlene wants to run away with Dek. This wasn't a bad idea. Allowing for another ten years or so for Marlene to come of age, the two of them might have been a very happy, stable couple.

Brilliantly observed comic scenes of working class domestic life, reminiscent of Caroline Aherne's superb 'Royle Family' sitcom, provide the backdrop for an engaging comedy-drama. All the main actors turn in typically excellent, albeit unsurprising performances: Robert Carlyle does a variation on his Scottish psycho-crim (see 'Trainspotting'), Ricky Tomlinson plays another genial but feckless Scouser (see 'The Royle Family') and Kathy Burke does her no-nonsense council-house Cockney routine (see Kathy Burke). By far the best of the ensemble is Rhys Ifans as Dek. Dek is the most rounded of the comic characters, all of whom are neatly sketched out, not just by dialogue, but by carefully chosen background details. Look out for the hub caps and model car collection in Dek's house and the cases of 'Pot Noodle' in Charlie's loo (which also serves as his office). Assured direction, a well-paced script and some very funny jokes make for a satisfying if somewhat predictable watch.

Respect is definitely due to Mr Meadows. He has made films about Britain that qualify as top notch cinema. He is a true artist - he portrays conflict both within and between people with his own style and bizarreness. He is making films about the people that fill British streets but do not on the whole have their own biographical art. His insistent use of everyday public and private space (the yellow brick semi, the grubby flat, the suburban street, the dilapidated bunch of in-town shops) gives his films a hyper-realistic, hallucinatory quality, like memories of childhood made flesh again.

The kaleidoscope of humour that dazzles the viewer of `A Room For Romeo Brass' or the first half of `Once upon a time.' is a gorgeous normality - a concentrated sniff of the glue that keeps working people and families together. These films know that this humour is an art form - akin to any other kind of oral culture through history, its purpose is to give its user's lives meaning, be it while fighting predators, invaders or the daily grind.

Meadows' plots are more overtly psycho-political than socio-political: the evil and darkness in his film comes from the past, from childhood. The families affected by that darkness tend to be the source of light and laughter which combats the darkness. Parents on-screen are loving and nurturing - it is orphans, or offspring of violent parents that bring this darkness from their off-screen histories to the films. This is where the dramatic power comes from - when Morrel in `Romeo Brass' alludes enigmatically to his violent father, our imaginations are left to their own devices. Similarly, though with less dramatic import, we are informed briefly in `once upon a time' that Jimmy is Carol's foster brother, and again we get that sense of how a fractured childhood creates a damaged adult.

Unfortunately Meadows cannot keep the dramatic quality up in `once upon a time' in the same way that he did to such devastating effect in `24-7' and `Romeo Brass'. The cowboy conceit that is one of the strands of amusement and pleasure in the film's first half gets strangely discarded just as it might be most effective - when Dek the cowardly geek finds his manhood. It is replaced by a strangely witless and conformist soap opera seriousness as the two dads tussle for one family. The surrealist streaks are still there (for instance Jimmy's penchant for haircuts, which I'm sure says a lot about his character) but the overall feel is that Meadows and his co-writer Paul Fraser repressed what had previously made the characters interesting in a kind of commercial dumbing-down attempt. `If Eastenders can get 19 million people watching it 3 times a week', they seem to have reasoned, `Then surely we can get some of that Ganesh magic to rub off on us'.

In the light of public indifference to Meadows' previous two glorious films, though, you have to be sympathetic to this. And it's worth watching for the first two thirds, some lovely acting (particularly by Rhys Ifans) and a kind of existential glow that I seem to get from Meadows' films and which makes him a top director in my book.