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.

I generally like Shane Meadows, his honest writing and depiction of what early 21st century average life in Britain is actually like, is both appealing and refreshing.

This one (I re-watched after many years and seen all his later work) is just a bit of a tangled mess (hence my summary title). It was great to watch the great Kathy Burke in a dominant (yes!) role now that she's concentrating on theatre direction these days. Also, her screen hubbie, a rather ridiculous wannabe country singer in the shape of Ricky Tomlinson.

Robert Carlyle plays to form as a real piece of ***t who is after getting his ex back. I soon found his constant shouting, swearing and nastiness wearying and Ryhs Ifans' counter example, as poor Shirley Henderson's dopey, lily-livered 'boyfriend' equally annoying. I wanted to shout out loud 'forget them both', but this being drama, the opposite happens of course.

The lighter moments, I suppose were intended to punctuate this domestic misery with an air of humanity. But, most of the time, they look stupidly careless, leaving you unsure whether they were intentional, or not. I did like the overall premise, especially at the end, when the subversive comparison to the classic western becomes apparent, though the setting is a modern English city's housing estate over a hundred years later. The Sierra Cosworth being the equivalent of a wild stallion...?

Meadow's work, though, is always of much merit and the fact that he has gotten himself a niche and etched himself a position on that elite panel of independent Brit directors whose work is admired equally by critics and public alike, is to be much admired. It also means that this quite early offering from him is still above average.

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.

Within the space of only a couple of years and with only his third film, Shane Meadows has joined Ken Loach and Mike Leigh as one of the (now) three British Directors whose films are simply unmissable by virtue of their director. Softer and gentler and therefore more accessible than either of it's predecessors, "Once upon a time in the Midlands" is a delight from start to finish. While "Twentyfourseven" and "A Room for Romeo Brass" were almost neo-realist in the Italian sense of the term, "Once upon a time ..." (the title alone eludes to the 'Italian' westerns) makes no such claims on "realism" reworking instead the classic western formula and laying it down in, of all places, Nottingham.

Shirley and Dec are happily unmarried in their extended family that comprises Shirley's daughter by her former partner Jimmy as well as Jimmy's foster-sister Carol and her country-and-western mad husband Charlie and their children. Things come to a head right at the start of the film when Dec proposes to Shirley on one of those dreadful TV audience participation shows (Sorry, Vanessa!) and she turns him down. Cue Jimmy, who has seen the show up in Glasgow, to ride into town to claim back Shirley.

What begins as broad comedy soon turns, if not quite sour, then at least darker and more poignant. Meadows' achievement is to allow his characters to behave humanely and realistically in situations that are often one step removed from 'realism' (and this time round he allows us the privilege of a happy ending). And if, in the end, it is this sense of the magical that detracts from the hammer-blows of "Romeo Brass" it remains a pleasure to spend a couple of hours in the company of these people.

The performances are, of course, superb (and Meadows is the best director of children working in cinema that I can think of). We expect nothing less of Kathy Burke and Robert Carlisle and Ricky Tomlinson but it is Shirley Henderson and Rhys Ifans as Shirley and Dek who are truly magnificent (they make you care deeply what happens to them) and as Shirley's daughter Finn Atkins is a real find.

I have just spent a couple of hours recently in the company of the characters who peopled Ken Loach's "Sweet Sixteen" and while admiring the brilliance of Loach's technique, still staggered out of the cinema in a state approaching despair. The lives of the people in Meadows' film aren't necessarily much better but, by God, there's hope there and for now that will do very nicely, thank you.