Brighton Rock

"You wanted a recording of my voice, well here it is. What you want me to say is, 'I love you'. Well I don't.  I hate you."

Typical British seaside resort - scorchio!

You know the story: bad boy from the wrong side of the tracks meets good Catholic girl who straightens him out and softens him up, making him a better person and leaving the viewer with a sense of warmth and in adoration of the power of young love...*happy sighs*

Yeaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh, Brighton Rock certainly breaks that mould.

Rowan Joffe's adaptation of Graham Greene's novel is dark, bleak and thoroughly engrossing. Charting the spiralling demise of baby-faced teen gangster Pinkie, this noir adaptation gives a respectful nod to John Boulting's hallowed 1947 film, yet stays truer to the gritty, malevolence of the book. And it's clear from the get-go that things won't be looking up for the troubled soul anytime soon.

We're instantly thrown into the brutal, murky underworld of 1960s Brighton by night: where criminals tussle for power and wealth, and men are discarded like an unwanted half-gnawed stick of rock. By daylight, things aren't much better with the city on the cusp of a youth revolt and the threat of destruction by a generation of Mods and bikers lingering heavily in the salty air.

It quickly becomes apparent that Pinkie's attempts to scramble free of rival and overlord Colleoni's reign is a fruitless endeavour resulting in little more than violence and mutilation, and ultimately for Pinkie: self-destruction.

Pinkie is depicted wonderfully by the brooding Sam Riley, who shot to fame following his critically acclaimed turn as Joy Division frontman Ian Curtis in biopic Control.

"Pass me that goldfish and no-one gets hurt..."

Riley does "troubled soul" with effortless ease. The ability to evoke moments of sympathy for such a dark, malevolant character is no mean feat but Riley does so, convincingly. Thus the audience are drawn to him in the strange, inexplicable way as Rose, his poor, pathetic love interest, played by Andrea Riseborough.

"Extreme kissing": the next big thing in high-octane sports

The real tragedy of this piece is the doomed relationship between Rose and Pinkie. Drawn into events by sheer poor luck, the pitiful Rose becomes embroiled in corrupt events beyond her control, desperate for affection but constantly rejected. She is little more than a pawn in Pinkie's plan and she knows it, although dares not admit it; frustrating both the audience and Pinkie as he struggles to stifle her affections.

There does come a point at which it seems as though there is something more behind those dead, black eyes where it seems Pinkie may admit even a mild desire for her - and it is hinted at - but alas it never comes to pass.

Frustrating, heart-wrenching and utterly absorbing.

The definitive scene that steals the show in this cinematically stylish and violent thriller has to be the final scene with Rose, desperately seeking comfort, listening to the soul-destroying record containing Pinkie's malicious words of hatred to her. The viewer's heart will skip a beat along with the record...

The big names arrive, unimpressed by the lack of fanfare

Supporting cast Helen Mirren, as Ida, and John Hurt, as Phil Corkery, cast an element of jovial light onto this otherwise dark piece. However they are somewhat peripheral against this vast backdrop of violence and disillusionment in a changing time.

Cinematically slick and stylish, Joffe offers a return to classic film noir, with sweeping, vast cliff shots and shady characters skulking in the shadows beneath the salt-sprayed dreary piers. Hand-held camera shots also create the energy and immediacy necessary for the physical, adrenalin filled moments.

Martin Phipp's dark and creeping score intensifies the looming darkness and vein of dread that pulses steadily throughout the film, until the climactic cliff-top finale.

Brighton ain't the same. She's on the move...