Londoners have repeatedly witnessed the portrayal of our
fellow controversially represented ‘chavs’ behind the gritty blocks of suburban
locations such as Brixton, and Forest Gate – homeland of debut director Ben
Drew, more commonly referred to by his multiplatinum stage-name Plan B. Drew’s Ill Manors presents an unnerving depiction of the social failings
in London with a symbolic multi-strand narrative cleverly structured with the
lives of eight characters who indulge in the ruthless, suburban phase of drugs,
violence, prostitution and poverty. The film stars Four Lion’s Riz Ahmed, Red
Road’s Natalie Press as well as the new-fangled albeit unvanquished likes
of Ed Skrein and Lee Allen. Ben Drew develops an explicitly ultra-realistic
portrayal of his hometown, one which is identified with the promotional
flash-line as one of the “environments (which) are just harder to survive in”.
The exposition does not hesitate to instantaneously establish the
socio-political messages conveyed by Drew’s production of this urban drama,
featuring the expected conventions we’ve already been exposed to by the
resemblance of films such as Shank and Kidulthood, films which concentrate on
manufacturing a mood of bleakness and anxiety. The composition is adorned with
aggressive smokers in hoodies equipped with the stereotypical urban London
dialect and lexicon, one which is vulnerable to criticism as audiences may feel
overexposed to the repetitive exhibition of this particular facet of London
living.
Nonetheless, Ill
Manors overcomes this with an impressive plot structure, constructed
similarly to Tarantino’s Pulp Fiction, acknowledged
for it’s multi-strand narrative to present an overview of the community
represented. The actors succeed in their assignments regardless of their
inexperience to the lights and cameras, a factor which merely emphasises the
authenticity of Drew’s opus as to the backgrounds of the characters are correspondent
to the dramatic depiction of the characters’ lives as they intensively engage
in a psychological wrestling match between morals and intentions. More
specifically, Aaron, who we are most primitively acquainted to at the beginning
of the film, is faced with a moral dilemma of receiving a four-digit sum which
will benefit him to supress the negative repercussions of his poverty-stricken
lifestyle, righteously however, he chooses not to conform to the predictable
decision of trading a mother’s abandoned baby for the offered payment – instead
he is adamant on defying dominant associate Ed, and is determined to find the
baby’s biological mother.
The narrative concludes with an interweaving involvement of
the majority of the eight characters as a consequence of the many events
contributing to the dramatic build-up. A mother is reunited with her kin and
Aaron is placed in a cab driven by Drew’s cameo as the driver, a powerful closing
metaphor to suggest personal development and self-regulated revolution as he
chooses to evade from the unforgiving streets of Forest Gate. The cab escapes
the trails of criminals such as Chris who is eventually persecuted despite of
the insinuation that he has reformed, exhibited with dynamic cinematography as
he throws a pistol into the Thames besides the East London landmark – The O2
Arena. Despite of this moral choice, in effect he is irrespectively overcome by
the force of the law, a narrative decision which implies that a criminal life
in London will inevitably lead to it’s warranted consequences. This political
message is conveyed cinematically with a series of rapid cross-cuts which resultantly
present the cyclic social hopelessness and dysfunctional system in which newer
generations are helplessly sucked into.
In essence, Ill Manors
can be credited as a bar-raiser for UK-based urban dramas, a claim which is
justified exceptionally as a breakthrough production within the film industry.
Earning wins for best cinematography as well as the 2012 Coup de Coeur and 4
award nominations including BFI’s ‘Best achievement in production’ award –
marking an overall thriving response received directly from the connoisseurs of
filmmaking. The captivating performances by the actors successfully elicit
emotions such as empathy within the audience as well as outrage because of the
sociopathic behaviour presented by the actions of the characters as they commit
deeds ranging from merciless torture to the prostitution of a heroin-reliant
young lady to kebab shop owners in exchange for a double-digit payment. Ben
Drew manipulates this production with no doubt of the genre as all expectations
are fulfilled with the harboured emotionally pulverising mood and atmosphere,
conveyed with the elements of dynamic POV shots placing the audience’s throat
within the grip of criminal Chris’s hands, as well as being positioned on the
other side of younger Chris’s trigger. This theme of childhood and loss of innocence
is featured thoroughly throughout the film’s narrative as flashbacks for the 8
primary characters are sequenced in scenes displaying hardship and
self-evaluation by the characters, presenting a sense of conscience which the
audience can empathise for and to some extent: pity their helpless lives. Plan
B’s auditory involvement with the use of a contextually corresponding
soundtrack serves as an effective means of enhancing the intent of
storytelling, most particularly due to the aggression and passion apparent in
the rap form of music to accompany on-screen gore and violence. Despite Ill Manors not being a particularly
marketable motion piece, I would recommend it to younger audiences, most
specifically Londoners as they are bound to themselves being relevant to the
events depicted within the film. The production echoes the devastatingly
realistic political messages concerning class and the social system in British
suburbs – messages which are inevitably cyclical to the lifeline of
metropolitan London until the gunshots and screams are heard clearly enough to
torment the powerful figures of the portrayed society – one symbolical of many
worldwide.
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