Just Jim (15.)
Directed by Craig Roberts.
Starring Craig Roberts, Emile Hirsch, Aneirin Hughes, Mark Lewis Jones, Richard Harrington and Nia Roberts. 84 mins
The chippiness of the British is our great redeeming grace. Let no man, or woman, be seen to succeed beyond their abilities, and even those whose success is commensurate with their abilities need to be pulled down a peg or two every now and then, just to keep them honest. So, in that spirit, can I ask how it came to be that the BBC, the BFI, S4C and Soda Pictures came to be backing A Craig Roberts Film?
He's a talented lad but aside from some small Hollywood roles and a series of Becoming Human, the 24-year-old's main claim to fame was starring in Richard Ayode's debut film Submarine. It's a small claim to fame but as small claims to fame go, a very good one – Submarine was one of the best British films of the last decade, a beautifully shot, moodily humorous tale of tortured adolescent in a small Welsh town. Here Robert's gets to do the full Citizen Kane – writing, directing, starring – in a beautifully shot, moodily humorous tale of tortured adolescent in a small Welsh home town and in the school he used to go to.
It's running length is divided up into three roughly equal parts. In the first we see friendless Jim being merciless bullied and picked on. In the second an American (Hirsch) moves in next door and sets about making him cool. In the third the film rapidly falls apart taking off on a wild surreal tangent. Now yer wild surreal tangent is all well and good, but it will tend to make what preceded feel entirely redundant, which is definitely a problem is what preceded was better than the wild surreal tangent.
There's a lot of good things loitering about in Just Jim. The performances, the look and the music are all spot on; as a comedy it may only offer moments of mild amusements but they're quality moments of mild amusements. But even before the unruly ending it's hard to commit to. It's so pleased with its good bits that it skips, or overlooks, the little duties needed to fully engage the viewer. There's a lot going on, but not much happening. For all its merits, it's probably the kind of British film that makes audiences mistrust British films.
Just Jim (15.)
Directed by Craig Roberts.
Starring Craig Roberts, Emile Hirsch, Aneirin Hughes, Mark Lewis Jones, Richard Harrington and Nia Roberts. 84 mins
The chippiness of the British is our great redeeming grace. Let no man, or woman, be seen to succeed beyond their abilities, and even those whose success is commensurate with their abilities need to be pulled down a peg or two every now and then, just to keep them honest. So, in that spirit, can I ask how it came to be that the BBC, the BFI, S4C and Soda Pictures came to be backing A Craig Roberts Film?
He's a talented lad but aside from some small Hollywood roles and a series of Becoming Human, the 24-year-old's main claim to fame was starring in Richard Ayode's debut film Submarine. It's a small claim to fame but as small claims to fame go, a very good one – Submarine was one of the best British films of the last decade, a beautifully shot, moodily humorous tale of tortured adolescent in a small Welsh town. Here Robert's gets to do the full Citizen Kane – writing, directing, starring – in a beautifully shot, moodily humorous tale of tortured adolescent in a small Welsh home town and in the school he used to go to.
It's running length is divided up into three roughly equal parts. In the first we see friendless Jim being merciless bullied and picked on. In the second an American (Hirsch) moves in next door and sets about making him cool. In the third the film rapidly falls apart taking off on a wild surreal tangent. Now yer wild surreal tangent is all well and good, but it will tend to make what preceded feel entirely redundant, which is definitely a problem is what preceded was better than the wild surreal tangent.
There's a lot of good things loitering about in Just Jim. The performances, the look and the music are all spot on; as a comedy it may only offer moments of mild amusements but they're quality moments of mild amusements. But even before the unruly ending it's hard to commit to. It's so pleased with its good bits that it skips, or overlooks, the little duties needed to fully engage the viewer. There's a lot going on, but not much happening. For all its merits, it's probably the kind of British film that makes audiences mistrust British films.
