TRAINSPOTTING
A film review by David N. Butterworth
Copyright 1996 David N. Butterworth/The Summer Pennsylvanian
Directed by Danny Boyle Rating: ***1/2 (Maltin scale)
Some British phenomena, like the Beatles, have crossed the Atlantic with resounding success.
Others, such as prawn-flavored crisps, warm beer, and Cliff Richard, haven't fared so well.
TRAINSPOTTING is the latest box office smash in the U.K.--an in-your-face look at a group of Scottish wankers who are about as unfabulous as the Four were Fab. It's unlikely to appeal to Ma and Pa back home in Iowa. Because of its language--by degrees very adult, artsy, and acutely accented. Because of its endless parade of hypodermics slipping in and out of pasty flesh. Because of its scatological excesses. Maybe simply because of its obscure title.
But TRAINSPOTTING manages to be hip, happening, graphic, tragic, violent, cool, filthy, sick, and very funny, and the tragically hip arthouse crowd on this side of the ocean are going to eat it up.
It's "fucin magic, ah'm telling ye."
Writer John Hodge's adaptation of Irvine Welsh's kaleidoscopic novel follows the highs and lows of a bunch of down-and-out heroin addicts who lie, cheat and steal their way through a series of tragicomic misadventures. These "so-called friends" are excellently played by a largely unknown cast.
As the film's central voice, Renton (a mesmerizing realization by Ewan McGregor) narrates TRAINSPOTTING with all the buzz and the beauty of Welsh's highly-stylized, antagonistic poetry. Renton is forever aching for just one more hit, and the lengths to which he will go are best exemplified by the scene in "the worst toilet in Scotland." Heroin may be a thousand times more potent than any orgasm but in the gospel according to Renton, Archie Gemmill's goal against Holland in 1978 ranks right up there. Renton's "we're ruled by effete arseholes" speech in the Scottish highlands gets the film's biggest laugh, but there's true emotion here: he half wants to believe there are better things than the needle, but "choosing life" is painful and damn near impossible for him. Although Renton cynically admits that "nothing really matters if you have a junk habit," perhaps his greatest fear is that nothing really matters if you don't.
Then there's Spud (Ewen Bremner), a moronic, four-eyed git who draws the obligatory sympathy vote. His speed-induced enthusiasm at a job interview makes for memorable cinema.
Sick Boy (played by Jonny Lee Miller), with his shock of white hair, is a better-looking version of Jim Jarmusch. He idolizes fellow countryman Sean Connery, ruminating on the actor's career with an overabundance of facts and opinions. He's likable and interesting for the first third of the movie, but then fades out.
Tommy (Kevin McKidd) starts out straight until his girlfriend dumps him, then slides quickly downhill to life as a doss house smackhead and a toxoplasmotic end.
The villainous Begbie (an unnerving performance by Robert Carlyle) is a nasty piece of work. His friends agree "he's psychotic, but he's a mate." Skag deals turn sour, quiet evenings down the pub aren't, and shared living quarters become unlivable whenever Begbie's around.
The women here are either slags, knocked up, or underage.
Massively hyped in the U.K., TRAINSPOTTING has clearly been targeted at the youth market. At times it feels more like a 501 jeans ad than a movie, and its soundtrack was designed to sell: Renton raves to the pulsating sounds of Sleeper, Blur, and Elastica; he sinks into the carpet in a drugged-out stupor to Lou Reed's "Perfect Day"; and his dingy bedsit is described to perfection by Pulp's "Mile End."
Director Danny Boyle (SHALLOW GRAVE) is somehow able to inject his film with a smart sense of humor, pathos, and keenly observed characterizations amidst unrelenting scenes of junkies shooting shite. TRAINSPOTTING is both offbeat and downbeat, difficult to watch at times but ultimately worth the trip.
-- David N. Butterworth
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