PIGGY

Joe (Martin Compston) has a story to tell, about him and an acquaintance of his called Piggy (Paul Anderson). The story begins, "one year earlier".

Joe narrates, talking us through his daily grind: working as a messenger boy, walking the hostile streets of London at other times, checking out the scum and degradation he sees everywhere and despairing inwardly.

Such is his depressive outlook on the world he has become socially detached from, he hides away for most of the time, getting stoned and drunk alone in his flat.

Then his older, more outgoing brother John (Neil Maskell) turns up on his doorstep, insisting he starts coming out with him. Joe does, and he finally starts to smile – he actually begins to enjoy himself. Of course, part of the reason for this is that John’s circle of friends includes demure blonde Claire (Louise Dylan), who Joe has become enthralled by.

Sadly, his fears of the outside world are confirmed when he’s mugged while returning home one evening. The next time he sees his brother he is subdued but does not speak of his misfortune, even when the mugger, Jamie (Ed Skrein), and his mates coincidentally turn up at the pub where they’re drinking and start an unrelated fight with John.

The scuffle is broken up and John walks away having the upper hand. Until later that night, when he’s attacked on his way home. Joe is called to the local hospital just in time to witness John’s death.

Following John’s funeral, Joe retreats back into his shell. Claire offers comfort as a friend, but it’s plain to see that Joe is finding it increasingly difficult to face reality.

Then, one evening, there comes a knock at his heavily secured flat door. Joe cautiously opens it to Piggy, who claims to have been a friend of John’s. Joe thinks he can vaguely remember this character from when he was a youngster.

Although initially suspicious of Piggy, Joe lets him regardless and their conversation soon turns to exacting revenge upon those who killed John. It’s something the forthright, confident Piggy seems particularly intent on.

And so, the pair form a friendship, don piggy snouts and set about becoming vigilantes on some of London’s toughest estates. It becomes a sort of gorier, darker HARRY BROWN, if you will …

PIGGY is the feature debut of writer-director Kieron Hawkes. Much like Brendan Muldowney’s debut feature film, SAVAGE, it describes a modern Britain in a state of violent urban meltdown. More specifically, both films focus on the devastating effect of isolation and violence on fundamentally decent protagonists.

Given that both films echo the moral breakdown and violent reaction to alienation witnessed in I STAND ALONE, it’s no surprise that both Hawkes and Muldowney cite Gaspar Noe among their respective influences.

It’s a great film to take cues from, certainly. The problem though is that this concept is well-worn nowadays. The kneejerk reaction to today’s violent society seems to be everywhere – and has been around for a good while, significantly in the likes of 70s classics such as DEATH WISH and TAXI DRIVER. The latter, crucially, is easy to compare thematically with Noe’s feature debut … and therefore with both Muldowney’s and Hawkes’ films.

Which is all good and well if you’re going to do something new, something surprising with a now-familiar template. Alas, Hawkes doesn’t.

The initial exposition is well handled, being stylish and brisk enough to help the viewer overlook its familiarity. The London portrayed here impresses too, in its authentic threat. But once the storyline settles into its by-the-numbers revenge killings, the violence ups and the plot goes virtually out of the window. The one thing we’re left waiting for, beyond the unexpectedly unflinching gore, is the twist: and when it comes, it’s disappointingly precisely what you’d guessed it would be during the film’s opening minutes.

Still, performances are excellent across the board. Maskell is better here than he was in KILL LIST, so it’s a shame he gets killed off so early-on. Dylan does well to elicit empathy from what is essentially an under-developed character. Anderson flits between chumminess and psycho with convincing ease.

Most persuasive though, is the bravely open and committed performance from Compston. He’s the heart of the film – he’s in virtually every scene – and he’s Hawkes’ lucky charm, such is his agreeable nature and skilled way of bringing out the tragedy in his character’s journey, even during the most unforgiveable scenes of violence.

Along with James Friend’s superb cinematography (wide open compositions, empty streets that play on Joe’s sense of isolation from reality) and Hawkes’ keen handle on pacing, the cast ensure that PIGGY is always worth watching.

Unfortunately it suffers from its predictable trajectory and, most damaging of all, a cringe-inducing (and wholly unnecessary) narration that I bet Hawkes wishes he could now remove.

PIGGY comes to UK DVD uncut, in a solid anamorphic widescreen transfer preserving the original 2.35:1 aspect ratio. Colours are intentionally muted for the large part, and night scenes authentically murky in a manner which accentuates the sinister sleaze of London’s after-midnight character. There are no compression issues, and images are sharp throughout.

English audio is provided in 2.0 and 5.1 mixes. The latter makes the best use of the film’s impressive, sometimes nauseating sound design. However, both tracks are perfectly serviceable.

Metrodome’s DVD opens with trailers for STAKELAND, CHERRY TREE LANE and GRAVE ENCOUNTERS.

From there, an animated main menu page includes among its features access to a static scene-selection menu. Access to the film is proffered by way of 12 chapters.

Extras begin with a 2-minute interview with Hawkes, flanked in a bar by the film’s co-stars. His cohorts nod as Hawkes explains the motivation behind his script, and expands upon the morality at play in his tale. His pride is sincere, his enthusiasm doubtless. And he has a Black Flag tattoo on his left arm, so the guy deserves a break.

Compston reveals that his likeable persona extends into real life, during an on-the-hop 3-minute interview. Stood outside a door boasting the number 69 on it, he’s chirpy and giving as he reveals the similarities between him and his character, and how hard it was not to crack up laughing during the film’s shoot.

Anderson also gets 3 minutes of interview footage, looking to have been hurriedly shot in-between takes while making the film on location. In it, he smokes a fag on the kerb while discussing what he liked about Hawkes’ script, his experience on the film, his character and so on.

Finally, and by far best of all, we’re treated to a 32-minute Making Of documentary. I’m pleased to report that this is one of those thorough, insightful affairs that heighten the viewer’s appreciation of the finished product. Producers, actors and director all discuss the film retrospectively (including some snippets reproduced from the aforementioned interviews – check out Compston’s spunkhead in some of the footage), while the behind-the-scenes footage edited in in-between is equally priceless.

Acting workshops, FX screen tests, art direction … everything is covered in this fast-paced, highly watchable documentary. Budding British filmmakers would do especially well to sit through this at least once.

PIGGY comes on a decent DVD from Metrodome, The film itself is flawed but interesting, and marks director Hawkes out as someone with the potential to produce something truly worthy in the future.

Review by Stuart Willis