A freezing cold Monday night, a screening with only five people in it, and still people insist on eating snacks that sound like they're eating gravel.
And why only five? It's cold, I get it. But rather than staying in watching crap on the telly, or a DVD that you could watch anytime, or going to a soulless multiplex, why not hit an independent cinema and see something slightly different? It might even be brilliant.
The trailer - the ones on YouTube have French subtitles. Go figure
I know it's a distribution issue as much as anything, but if people voted with their feet maybe films like Broken would reach a much wider audience. Not that I'm against watching films in empty cinemas, you understand. Quite the opposite. It makes for quite the heightened experience. Popcorn crunching aside.
And what an experience Broken is.
I think I experienced every emotion available while ensconced in my comfy chair at Sheffield's Showroom. I was gripped, transfixed, mesmerised.
I think it was Mark Kermode who said recently (and I have a feeling he was quoting someone else, probably Roger Ebert) that occasionally, as a critic, it's nice just to let a film wash over you. To experience it without picking it apart. So it was with Broken.
And the beautiful bit was that I never planned it. I sat, I watched, and from the opening frames I was transfixed. And I still am now.
Sitting here, typing away, a sleeping dog turning the air green, Richard Parker out chasing snowflakes, I'm burbling away because I don't really know where to begin. In a good way.
I could tell you what it's about - but that's a tough one, because there's a lot going on - and I want to talk about the ending. But I can't. I could tell you what it's about (three families on a small cul-de-sac and their interweaving lives) but that really doesn't do it justice. It's been described elsewhere as a 'coming of age drama', but that's bollocks - it's not that twee or saccharine.
IMDB says it's the story of a young girl in North London whose life changes after witnessing a violent attack. And it kind of is, only her life doesn't change. The victim's life does, sure, and his family's, but Skunk's life is changing as she grows up. Nothing she experiences is hinged on that one event. It's an event that happens and life goes on. As life does.
So let's start with the film's star. And it's not Tim Roth, Cillian Murphy or Rory Kinnear (although they are all brilliant). No.
It's Eloise Laurence.
She's making her debut - not just in films, but in anything - and yet she brings to the screen a performance of such depth and maturity that two-thirds of the world's actresses should seriously think about jacking it in. If she's this good now, Christ knows where she'll end up as she grows.
She's playing Skunk. A teenager with diabetes whose mum walked out on the family for an accountant. She's got an essentially optimistic outlook, is happy to speak to the young man (Rick, played by Robert Emms) across the way who is clearly a bit slower than the norm, loves her dad, deals with her illness in a mature way and annoys her brother.
All of which is delivered in an amazingly believable portrayal.
Then real life starts getting in the way.
She sees Rick getting beaten up after lies are told, she has to prepare for life as a first year at secondary school (what is that in new money? Year 7? Year 8? Wasn't like that in my day...) with all the rumours and scaremongering that comes with it. She gets bullied. She falls in love. She gets her heart broken. She rails against injustice. And you remain transfixed.
This kid can seriously deliver.
Obviously a lot of credit has to go to acclaimed stage director Rufus Norris, himself making a debut of his own, having switched to film from the theatre. That he has drawn such a powerful - yet wonderfully measured - performance from such a young actress is a wonder to behold.
But his skills don't stop there.
From the aforementioned 'stars' he draws equally top-drawer roles. Kinnear is loathsome as the father with control and anger issues striving to protect his family after his wife has died; Roth hasn't been this good in a while (and it puts his Arbitrage performance to shame); Murphy is wonderfully subtle, delivering on many levels without overpowering the scenes.
If I'm gushing, tough. Go with it. Broken IS this good.
But Norris shows his skills in other areas too. The time line is not linear. We often see the result before we see the action. But it is handled so effortlessly, so naturally, that it makes total sense. And he's at it from the off. There's no bedding in here, it's lights on and here we go - and maybe that's why it works so well. With no time to wonder what he's doing, you can relax, go with it and just revel in what he has achieved.
You can not fail to empathise with this film. You find yourself recalling your own schooldays, the rumours that circulated, the bullying, the kids who dealt with serious illness with dignity and no fuss. But it's not just about the children.
What Broken shows you is that life doesn't get any easier. Just because you've survived growing up, shit still happens and has to be faced. And serious shit at that. Which brings me to another great touch.
If I'm making Broken sound grim and hard going, it's not. There are comic touches here that provide perfectly-timed levity, welcomes grins as the shit - literally - hits the window. In some places you know the bad is coming because you've been given the sugar cube first, sure, but when it's done this well - and the bad is never predictable - who cares? It works.
It's a measure of just how good the film is, that by the end, after all the drama and tragedy and torment, you still don't know which way Norris is going to take you. You hope, sure, you hope like hell that he turns right. But you know that if he turns left down the other road, you'll be OK with that too. That would be just as breathtaking a conclusion.
And when was the last time you could say that about a film?
Oh, and she can sing too...
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