Tyrannosaur

Over ten years ago, two of Britain's most critically acclaimed actors - Gary Oldman (Sid and Nancy, J.F.K.) and Tim Roth (Reservoir Dogs, Rob Roy) - made their respective directorial debuts with two chilling depictions of domestic abuse: Oldman's Nil by Mouth and Roth's The War Zone. More than one critic made comparisons between the two filmmakers. After all, the two actors were long-time friends: they auditioned for many of the same roles in the '80s and co-starred in Tom Stoppard's modernist Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead among others. Both men also cast Ray Winstone in their leads, effectively kick-starting his international career for the then-unknown cockney actor. Yet - despite the international acclaim of their very personal portraits of Britain - Oldman and Roth have not made any follow-ups, as both men found it very difficult to find financing for their challenging projects. 

 The similarly acclaimed Paddy Considine, too, has opted to make his directorial debut with a realist drama about domestic violence, Tyrannosaur. Like the work of the earlier actor-directors, Tyrannosaur is also extremely challenging and - in its unsentimental depiction of child abuse, animal cruelty and spousal violence - may lead to some walkouts due to its emotional intensity.

Peter Mullan (My Name is Joe) plays Joseph, an unemployed drunkard who bullies fellow bar patrons, local business owners and anyone else unlucky enough to irritate him. Fleeing a group of young people he intimidated, he finds salvation in op-shop worker Hannah (Hot Fuzz's Olivia Colman). The kindly Christian understands that - beneath his extraordinary rage and aggression - lies the hurt of a broken and vulnerable man. Hannah, though, is also troubled, as she lives in fear of frightening abuse from a sexually domineering husband, played by Eddie Marsan (The Disappearance of Alice Creed, Happy Go-Lucky).

Based on the characters and situations of Considine's 2007 short Dog Altogether, Tyrannosaur is a platonic and spiritual love story between two fragile (but not broken) individuals. Initially, both creatures try to hide behind self-defensive behavioral constructs: Joseph lashes out after the death of his wife, whilst Hannah tackles the world with cheery generosity and spirit, forming a relationship with God more substantial than her seemingly apologetic husband. Gradually, the two characters develop a bond that reaches a far deeper emotional level than mere sexuality, opening up with one another in ways that they could not with other people.

Superficially similar to the films of Shane Meadows - who directed Considine in his acting debut in A Room for Romeo Brass - Tyrannosaur is much more difficult and challenging than the work of that fine British director. Meadows explores dark themes, but usually opens his work with laughter and optimism, gradually darkening the tone with the introduction of danger or chaos. On the other hand, Considine opens with grimness - with shocking brutality committed towards an animal - and then introduces humour. Considine's approach is much tougher and more challenging: Joseph begins as a vicious monster and, then, his humanity is gradually introduced with humour and pathos (his later discussion of his wife - and his explanation of her nickname Tyrannosaur - is moving and disturbing).    

Surprisingly, Considine is also a visually sophisticated filmmaker. Unlike some actor-turned-directors who are less interested in the visual possibilities of the medium, Considine makes interesting and refreshingly unpretentious technical choices. For one thing, cuts per second are significantly down on most modern films, as the cinematographer Erik Wilson (Submarine) and focus puller Iwan Prys Reynolds execute subtly impressive long takes. The camera often pans left and right and pulls focus from one image to another, visually expressing the increasing connection and comfort between Joseph and Hannah. Later, a long shot of Mullan - framed with a long lens - communicates the emotional disconnection between the two characters with spatial distance. This is a subtle technique, with merely the choice of lenses effectively communicating the attachment/detachment between the characters.  

Considine previously worked with the three actors - the men appeared in the Red Riding trilogy and the director and Colman both played cartoonish coppers in Hot Fuzz - and the trust between filmmaker and cast pays off in interesting ways. Colman is better known for her comic chops (she regularly appears on post-modern sitcom Peep Show) and her performance as Hannah is likely a game-changer, as she taps into the astonishing layers of the character's pain and kindness with unexpected depths. The bulldog-like Marsan, too, is usually cast as someone with an inferiority complex, and that persona is frayed into frightening aggression. 

Mullan, though, gives a truly extraordinary performance. The actor-director is never less than excellent on-screen: he was a standout in ensembles Trainspotting, Children of Men, Red Riding and Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part One. Unfortunately, Mullan gets few opportunities to portray a character so fully fleshed, but he makes the most of this opportunity. Joseph is an often-contradictory character, and the actor does not flinch from his uglier side: he understands that the character's humanity is evident without the need to sentimentalise him.

Well-acted, beautifully-written and directed with a fine touch for photography, Tyrannosaur is a bruising and poignant experience.