starring andrew shim, ben marshall, paddy considine and bob hoskins
Is this film fundamentally misconceived or is it "ambitious yet flawed". Whatever this film is, it's a resolute and frustrating mish-mash, but what the hell, let's invite it in and see what it's got to say. Romeo is the second feature from director Shane Meadows whose first film Twenty-Four Seven was a success both at the SFF a few years back and on its own when it was released into the treacherous world of local distribution. Romeo is one story that goes in one relatively clear direction, but it's filled with strange and ill-fitting changes in tone. There's one giant one about halfway in the middle of the film that I thought might have been genius until I realised the director wasn't going to do much with it, so I guess after that I just got depressed and bitchy. In a better or more forgiving mood I would say this is an interesting film from a promising director. Instead, it just struck me as a missed opportunity, and the world is filled with this style and story. I refuse to applaud an artist for fucking up. When they deliver I'll be the first to climb the mountain and tell the town the good news. Until then, I'll stick with crappy films that are at least perfectly executed. Like those Leslie Nielsen parody flicks. I caught Wrongfully Accused on FOXTEL the other morning and was in stitches. Stick that in yer pipe and smoke it SFF! Besides, even if Romeo were perfectly executed, I have the feeling it would still be a bit of a dud.
You can argue that this film takes disparate moods and stories and tries to see how they function together, but none of the stories are really very interesting to begin with, so all the switchbacks and double-crosses in the world won't save you from that haunting blandness that creeps in and refuses to leave just when you've found the comfortable spot on the couch. Three fascinating schizophrenics is a rocking party that refuses to let any Ellington on the stereo and threatens to beat the beret boy senseless if Elvis or the Stooges is taken off the old-world turntable. Three gentle souls with a way for the slight anecdote and casual observation will just leave you wondering why you even bothered leaving the house when there is so much to do anyway, Van the Man, the moon, a million phone numbers of women you're yet to meet.
It's a perfect festival film in other words people; it slots right in effortlessly. It's one in the afternoon, your backs hurts, you're not quite sure if you've got a headache. Films just come and go, some remembered, some forgotten, some lingering like bad take-out. This one passed so quickly I could barely think of anything to write for this much-needed dive into film criticism. Can you tell?
Adam Rivett
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