I watched Brighton Rock without knowing it's cultural baggage: it's the second film adaptation of Graham Green's 1938 novel and it's cinematic predecessor is well regarded as a classic British film noir. First time director Rowan Joffé had big shoes to fill, a message contemporary critics brooded over relentlessly in their reviews. I realize it's difficult to see an adaptation if you've watched or loved another (Keira Knightley's Pride and Prejudice comes to mind) but the reviewers' joyful take down of this version seems excessive. Evaluating it independently of it's artistic ancestors, I think Brighton Rock stands up well on it's own.
I'll caution you, it has an art house-y vibe so I watched it "the right way", alone and in the dark. If you prefer plots with immediately engrossing drama, Brighton Rock isn't for you. Also, it wouldn't be the craziest thing to watch it with subtitles as the protagonist Pinkie Brown has a strong accent and mumbles through his more intimate lines.
Brighton Rock begins with a heavy dose of action and the early violence is handled energetically before the film dives headlong into it's slower burning psychological conflicts. The first tableaus -- a pair of semi-accidental, gang-related murders -- define the entire story, but they're some of the least scary and most forgettable scenes. The hostility, fear, and suspense are morally straightforward and thus easier to analyze than the twisted vine of morbid weirdness that eventually grows between wannabe gangster Pinkie Brown and unsuspecting waitress Rose.
Rose is a witness to a murder which Pinkie was ultimately responsible for and in an effort to obtain evidence that could incriminate him and his cronies, he cozies up to her in the creepiest way possible. She quickly realizes that he's "mixed up" in this hanging offense and that her knowledge of the event is in demand from others (notably her indefatigable boss Ida) so he continues his "romantic" pursuit, emotional torture, and menacing glares. Any girl with a warm family background or hint of self-confidence would've run away from Pinkie immediately, but Rose lacks both. In fact, she's into it.
And here's where mainstream critics lost me. Rose is described as "a fool in love" who is possibly "dim" and whose ties to Pinkie boil down to "spaniel-like devotion". While all that is true, it's a gross oversimplification of the character and a refusal to acknowledge many of the moments that capture Rose's unfortunate circumstances. In an early scene, Pinkie confides that the "other girls" (Rose's fellow waitresses) freeze him out and she concurs, telling him they treat her similarly. She lives in a shockingly depressing and dirty (public housing?) building with her abusive father who ultimately sells her to Pinkie. Ida, a sophisticated and sexually self-assured maternal figure, consoles her by informing her that there will be other boys who'll love her. But Rose isn't convinced and frankly, neither am I. She's awfully odd and after we see how malignant, lonely and small her world is, it's understandable she'd cling to the first powerful love interest that paid her any attention.
Speaking of that love interest, does Pinkie the Psychopath love Rose? For every scene that bluntly suggested he didn't, there'd be one where it was clear he did and this ambiguity kept me engrossed in their story. Most reviews rely on what the characters explicitly affirm -- he hates her, she loves him. But there are too many tender moments and questionable motives to judge definitively. Logically, his character should've pored acid on her during their boardwalk date, after she recognizes a post humous photograph of his victim. It would've been a perfect crime to throw her off an isolated cliff, but they end up in a passionate embrace. Rose is a huge liability who wouldn't have been missed, but Pinkie marries her to keep her quiet rather than kill her. He pulls her closer when they're dancing, kisses her fiercely before proclaiming they're "made for each other", and can't bring himself to throw out her love note.
We might not recognize their feelings as love, but their poisonous, obsessive passion may be the only love these two are capable of.
Watch it if you could handle the ickiness of An Education while appreciating it's style, believe Dexter Morgan's trysts are romantic, or want to see a Shakespearean tragedy (think Othello with a healthy chunk of Romeo and Juliet) unfold between two odd ducks in 1960s Brighton.
Need More Motivation? The cinematography is epic (I would happily watch it again on mute), the updated 1960s setting is fucking perfect and Rose's knife wielding confrontation with the patronizing/concerned Ida made my palms sweaty.
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