Richard Billingham's odd, memorable, yet off-putting biographical endeavor, RAY & LIZ

UPDATE: the 
Digital/On-Demand 
release of this film, 
via 1091, will be 
available on 
April 14, 2020

There's a scene in RAY & LIZ, the new autobiographical movie from photographer/ artist/teacher Richard Billingham, in which a member of the extended family named Lol, marvellously played by Tony Way (below), stops in for a visit, after which the title characters Ray and Liz (Billingham's utterly incompetent parents -- he's an alcoholic, she's grossly overweight and problemed by fuck-all), go shopping and leave Lol with the care of their very young son.

Lol has been warned to leave alone the booze in the apartment, but soon arrives a new character -- a nasty young man, either a tenant, relative or supposed friend -- who brings out that booze, get Lol roaring drunk, and then....

This scene, arriving maybe a quarter way into things offers the suspense of Hitchcock, the possibilities inherent in the most awful of any current horror movie, and a growing sense of a dreadful injustice that is about to befall an innocent character (or two). The filmmaker, shown below, could hardly have crafted a more riveting scene had he been making full-length movies over an entire lifetime (he's known mostly as a photographer, I believe).

Mr. Billingham's skills, as writer and director, seem to TrustMovies both legion and limited, in that he is able to visually offer up a truly horrible story of an abusive childhood, due more to utter neglect than anything else -- the movie may remind you, thanks to its lower-working-class setting and child abuse, of the work of Terence Davies, though in style, it is light years away from Davies -- that is artful, often very effective, but in the end lacking in much depth-of-character.

This is due to a screenplay and to writing that is simply missing (though it is made up for, to an extent, by the acting on view). We do not really get to know these people much at all. They exist as one-note creations: alcoholic, overweight, mean-and-nasty, and in a couple of cases caring-and-helpful.

The children, thanks mostly to their age and lack of experience, also come across in this way: One seems fascinated with the natural world and animal life (Joshua Millard-Lloyd, above); the other, a teenager (playing the younger Mr. Billingham, I presume), seems typically self-involved and absent, though his plea toward the end of the film, "Can I get foster parents, too?" is moving and certainly understandable, given his circumstances.

Fortunately, the film has been cast very well. Every character, older or younger version (Ray & Liz takes place over three time periods, with the most recent one acting as a wrap-around frame), seems dead-on, usually giving us at least a taste of what the little, sometimes undecipherable dialog leaves out. The title characters are played by Justin Salinger and Ella Smith (shown above, right and left, respectively), and both fill their roles with as much specific behavior as they are able (she is given much more dialog than he).

Overall, while the movie captures neglect, along with despair, repressed anger and near-squalor with remarkable zeal and thoroughness, we never really know these people much. Nor, maybe, would we want to. Still... Knowing, understanding... isn't that the point?

I did enjoy the short scene in which young Jason feeds a giraffe, and wondered at how he managed to collect an array of pet snails without mom tossing them out (ah, neglect has its benefits!). And the nighttime scenes are captured with the eye of the artist, while other moments -- the bunny rabbit in the baby carriage -- offer surprise, charm and wit. I think you'll remember Ray & Liz for certain scenes and moments, even if you're not completely taken with its British miserabilism whole.

From KimStim and running a long, harrowing 108 minutes, the movie has its U.S. theatrical premiere this coming Wednesday, July 10, in New York City at Film Forum. Upcoming playdates include the Zeitgeist Theatre and Lounge in Arabi, Louisiana, and the Vancity Theatre, Vancouver, both on July 12, and Laemmle's Royal in West Los Angeles on July 19. Click here, then click on Playdates, to see if others have been added subsequent to this post.

TrustMovies apologizes for earlier posting 

one of Mr. Billingham's photos above, 

under the guise of its being 

the photographer/filmmaker himself.  

That mistake has now been corrected.

British miserablism gets another go-round in Joseph Bull & Luke Seomore's BLOOD CELLS

Last noted by TrustMovies in Paddy Considine's directorial debut, Tyrannosaur, and then again in that very fine example, The Selfish Giant by Clio Barnard, the sub-genre of British miserablism seems to surface via a new rendition every year or so. The latest to hit screens -- or in this case, DVD and VOD -- is a just-about adequate example of both the genre and of British movie-making. BLOOD CELLS (its not especially auspicious or revealing title would seem to be more at home in the zombie genre) tells the tale of a lonely, disconnected man named Adam (Barry Ward, above and further below) who appears to have been traumatized by some family incident in his semi-distant past.

We get clues to this and to just about everything else in the film, as the movie-makers -- Luke Seomore and Joseph Bull (above, left and right, respectively) -- like to tease us with snippets without telling us almost anything outright or point blank. I'm all for subtlety, but after awhile this sort of thing can seem more like arbitrary withholding. In any case, the whatever-it-is has rendered our Adam seemingly incapable of family connection and perhaps not much of any other kind.

When the upcoming birth of his brother's child calls Adam back to the fold, it's trauma-time anew, and our hero very cautiously attempts to find his way home. Along that way, he encounters a number of odd/interesting folk who offer him solace (with a price), temporary companionship, and other miserablism-type delights. The darkest of these is the opportunity for him and his girlfriend to perform sexually in front of a bevy of old men in a bath-house. The sweetest involves a pair of young girls who use our hero to buy them some alcohol.

Big-time father issues surface from the beginning and wend their way throughout the film, culminating in a "reveal" that, while explanatory, seems too little too late. (Dad was apparently a cattle or dairy farmer who experienced the complete desolation of his herd.) The finale, too, after all we've seen and all our hero has experienced, seems like sentimental sap.

Still, the acting is solid, from everyone and throughout, and the dense, dark look of the film certainly fits its theme and locale. Cinematography is also on target, though, at this point in miserablism time, we've seen an awfully lot of this kind of thing. The genre works best when there's plenty of character specifics on view; here, what we get is mostly glum and repetitive.

On balance, the movie pretty much breaks even. There's certainly as much to appreciate as there is to question. Blood Cells, distributed by Garden Thieves Pictures and produced with the help of Gucci (of all companies! Is it attempting to mix a little "reality" into its uber-high-end image?), hits the street on DVD, as well as simultaneously being available via VOD, this coming Monday, August 17. Click here for more information.

TYRANNOSAUR: Paddy Considine turns filmmaker as Mullan and Colman shine

At a press preview last week, a compatriot of mine, Kent Turner of Film Forward used the term British miserabilism to describe movies such as TYRANNOSAUR, the first full-length film to be written and directed by the crack British actor Paddy Considine. Having recently sat through other examples of this genre -- NEDS and In Our Name are two such -- I find that term pretty appropriate. The definition of the word -- the kind of music, art, film or theater that evokes a depressive state -- can also be expanded into the quality of seeming to enjoy that state. Both meanings are appropriate for the movie at hand, I think.

Mr. Considine (shown at left), a terrific actor under literally every circumstance in which I've seen him, has cast and then coaxed some of the finest perfor-mances of the year from his actors, particularly his two leads, Peter Mullan and Olivia Colman. As over-the-top as I found the movie's central situation and the fact that both leading characters have a secret (or not so) cross to bear, either of which would be plenty to hang a movie around but together make for the kind of double whammy that can't help seeming a bit manufac-tured, I could still, not for a second, consider leaving before the movie had finished because, moment-to-moment, the performances were that real and riveting. (I have also found this to be true in some of the films in which Mr. Considine has starred. In fact, the first film which he co-wrote -- but did not direct -- Dead Man's Shoes, suffered from this same, over-the-top quality.)

In Tyrannosaur, the title of which comes from a story the Mullan characters tells about his late wife, characters and events are almost always pitched at an emergency state. The film begins with an angry, nasty drunk (our Mullan man, shown above) killing his pet dog (animal lovers will immediately despair but wait -- another dog in sent to the great fire hydrant in the sky before the movie reaches its destination). His grief for this deed seems to know no bounds but soon he is back threatening folk and breaking windows.

This leads to his "miserabilism meet-cute" with co-star, the wonderful Ms Colman (above) in the church-sponsored thrift shop where she works. Religion raises its ridiculous head for a time, but, really, neither party is all that into it. What they are into is violence and pain. One gives, without really wanting to, and the other receives, again, without at all wanting to. The third wheel is provided by the always reliable Eddie Marsan (shown in photo at bottom), who is wonderful in a two-note role.

Other than this, the supporting cast is comprised of a family across the street --  nasty father (played by Paul Popplewell, below), cowed mother, sweet son; and a good, often drunk, friend of the Mullan character, played by the fine actor Ned Dennehy, shown with Colman at left, above (Dennehy is also super-fine as the sleazy snitch in the now stream-able movie Blitz, in which Considine shines in the role of a gay cop).

As I say, every single performance is terrific, so it's little wonder the film won both the World Cinema Jury Prize, Dramatic, for Breakout Performances, and the World Cinema Directing Award, Dramatic at this year's Sundance Festival. And it is not that the writing and directing are lacking, exactly; they do the job. But there is indeed that sense (as in the miserabilism definition above) of everyone somehow enjoying all this just a little too much.

Tyrannosuar, another worthwhile film from Strand Releasing, opens this Friday, November 18, in New York City at the Angelika Film Center and in the Los Angeles area at Laemmle's Sunset 5 and Playhouse 7.