Film News

Green Room Review

Published

10 years ago

May 9, 2016

Admin

Punk and Disorderly

♦Tripwire’s Senior Editor Andrew Colman dug out his bondage trousers and his safety pins to take a look at Jeremy Saulnier’s US indie film Green Room

Green Room

Director: Jeremy Saulnier

Stars: Patrick Stewart, Anton Yelchin, Imogen Poots, Alia Shawkat, Joe Cole, Callum Turner

I opted to see this offering as it seemed like a corrective to all the super-hero fare I’d been swamped in lately – the hollow grandiosity already approaching saturation, with more of the same fare on the horizon. All most welcome, of course. Instead it was time for some gritty, cutting edge indie – the man introducing the feature promised a compulsive, hard-bitten treat, as did the film’s notices I spotted on Shaftesbury Avenue, prior to the screening – apparently what I was about to witness was a four star thriller with integrity that would transcend genres, which seemed a bit hyperbolic but worthwhile enough. However this low-budget effort ironically fell into the same traps that those aforementioned blockbusters struggle to avoid – no depth or backstory, and a wafer-thin scenario that could’ve been wrapped up in half an hour.

The film, set for the most part in Portland Oregon, follows a fledgling punk band (The Ain’t Rights, for those who are interested) eking out a nomadic living on the circuit – the opening fifteen minutes resembling a road movie, which might’ve been a more rewarding idea than what actually does happen. Our four hapless protagonists, after playing in a backwoods bar surrounded by hostile Nazi skinheads, accidentally witness a murder in the so-called backstage green room which leads to them being trapped by thugs who are only too keen to pin the crime on them, or kill them first. After this narrative motor makes its sudden presence felt, the rest of the movie, already fairly claustrophobic as it is, morphs into a panoply of close-ups, attack dogs and gory eviscerations.

Needless to say, everything from that point on is brazenly genrebound, with head thug Darcy Banker (Patrick Stewart, obviously keen to expand his range) relentlessly barking barely audible commands and logistical diktats to his underlings that are presumably meant to create tension but just lead to disinterest. We know the villains will get slaughtered, the only question being (yawn) how. Our four punks quickly adjust to their new reality of imminent death, but refuse to meekly give in, and gradually become highly resourceful in their baddie-dispatching. Inevitably the cast of players get whittled down somewhat, with Pat (Anton Yelchin) and Amber (Imogen Poots), a skinhead girl who decides to throw in her lot with the punks, surviving long enough to break out of their jury-rigged cell.

It’s unquestionably well-acted, with all the leads presentable enough, while the direction has the odd moment of flair and originality. However genre flicks can’t sustain interest simply by being straightforward and subtext-free – there has to be a hook or connection, unless the filmmakers were only aiming for exploitation, but even then there has to be something new brought to the table. If anything, the film recalls the witless nihilism of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre, only with proper actors and a serviceable yet diffuse script – even the black comedy and gallows humour that would’ve worked so well here barely surfaces, the four punks only once breaking free from exposition to discuss bands that they would take to a desert island.

There’s been a decent amount of positive reviews for this film, with various aggregator sites citing intelligence, wit and technical nous as its chief markers. They’re half right.