It’s a thankless enough task to adapt a masterful classic novel into a movie. But to do it when that novel has already been turned into a masterful classic film? We should at least give Rowan Joffe credit for taking a risk — even if his version of “Brighton Rock” doesn’t approach the achievement of its two predecessors. “Brighton Rock,” Graham Greene’s first masterpiece, was published in 1938 and set in that decade, as was the 1947 film starring a young Richard Attenborough. Joffe has chosen to update the action, to 1964. Pinkie Brown (Sam Riley) is a Brighton hoodlum making his mark on a gang that’s just lost its leader. As the film opens, the gang murders the man responsible for their boss’ death. Attempting to escape his fate, he tries to befriend a young woman getting some air — unfortunately for her. She gets a good look at the doomed man and the gang members that drag him away.
So the next day, Pinkie takes tea at Snow’s, where Rose (Andrea Riseborough) waitresses. He insinuates himself into the life of this innocent, going so far as to marry her to prevent her testimony from sending him to the noose. God, the figure to whom Roman Catholics Pinkie and Rose pray, might be slow to dispense justice. But Ida Arnold (Helen Mirren) is more determined. The good-time girl saw the man just before his murder and knows Pinkie is somehow responsible.
| On screen |
| ‘Brighton Rock’ |
| Three stars out of four |
| Starring: Sam Riley, Andrea Riseborough, Helen Mirren |
| Director: Rowan Joffe |
| Rated: Unrated but contains pervasive language, violence and smoking |
| Running time: 111 minutes |
Novels might have eternal resonance, but they’re always of their time, and “Brighton Rock” is no exception. Moving the action forward by three decades makes some of its events inexplicable — the most important being the seduction of Rose, body and soul. Stealing a woman’s virtue meant something different in the ’30s than in the ’60s.
There’s a serious edge to Greene’s thriller, and despite the time change, Joffe knows it. But his way of indicating that is to focus a long shot, say, on a crucifix hanging on a wall. Something of Pinkie’s religious obsessions remain, as when he tells Rose, “Of course there’s a hell. Flames, damnation, and torments.” But the point of another story of youth gone wrong is lost amid the stylish suits and gleaming knives.
This film’s ending matches that of the 1947 film — which was very different from that of the novel. There are certainly no censors to worry about now, so one has to wonder whether Joffe immersed himself in the book, or just the movie made from it. At least there’s enough of intrigue here to send savvy viewers back to both.
