BRONSON
Directed by Nicolas Winding Refn
Produced by Rupert Preston & Danny Hansford
Written by Brock Norman Brock & Refn
Released by Magnet
UK. 92 min. Rated R
With Tom Hardy, Matt King, James Lance, Kelly Adams & Amanda Burton
 

Bronson is a strange and surprisingly light-hearted romp about one of Britain’s most violent prisoners, Michael Peterson.

Peterson, a bare-knuckle brawler with the tough-guy moniker “Charles Bronson,” bungled a post-office stick-up job in the 1970s, and wound up getting a seven-year jail sentence. His soft spot for prison violence and hostage taking, as well as several robbery attempts while he was on parole, blossomed into a 30-odd-year career as a guest of the Queen. Most of which, apparently, was spent in solitary confinement.

The movie, directed and co-written by Danish filmmaker Nicolas Winding Refn, ditches much of Peterson’s real life—Peterson, for instance, married twice while behind bars, converted to Islam, and wrote a number of books. Instead, Refn creates a bizarro world MC’d by Peterson/Bronson (played by British actor Tom Hardy), who for much of the movie is imagining himself on a stage while he recounts his desire to become famous by doing the one thing he’s good at—staging prison brawls.

Propelled by an enjoyably grinding soundtrack, the film leads us through a series of brutal, dreamlike sequences in Peterson’s quest to become the most famous prisoner in Britain: his stints at various jails; a bad spell at an asylum for the criminally insane; and an extremely outré (and almost certainly made-up) parole episode where he moves in with a dodgy, high-living uncle while taking up street fighting.

Hardy, with his shaved head, waxed moustache, and brawny proportions, strongly resembles an Edwardian circus strongman, adding to the movie’s tonal oddity. Still, it’s an amazing performance, and he nicely makes even the strongest stuff—such as Peterson’s stripping naked and forcing a hostage to smear grease on his backside as part of his escape plan—seem weirdly sensible.

While the movie’s air of unreality makes it entertaining, it completely undercuts the film’s rather unconvincing last-minute attempt to develop a social conscience. In the last third, Peterson takes art lessons and seems to be settling down until once again everything ends in deranged hostage taking and nude fighting.

You’re supposed to feel bad for him, but the film’s goofy, amoral universe makes it hard for you to care. In prison brawls, people get bloody but no one really gets hurt, and if the guards are brutal to Peterson, he’s brutal to them. It seems like everyone sort of enjoys it at some level. Especially Peterson. Different strokes for different folks, I guess. Brendon Nafziger
October 9, 2009