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James Purefoy carries a big sword in nonsense medieval blood bath Ironclad |
Director: Jonathan English
Cast: James Purefoy (Thomas Marshall), Brian Cox (William
d’Aubigny), Derek Jacobi (Reginald de Cornhill), Kate Mara (Lady Isabel), Paul
Giamatti (King John), Charles Dance (Archbishop Stephen Langton), Jason Flemyng
(Becket), Jamie Foreman (Jedediah Coteral), Mackenzie Crook (Daniel Marks),
Rhys Parry Jones (Wulfstan), Aneurin Barnard (Guy), Vladimir Kulich (Tiberius)
Let’s just take a moment to enjoy the fact that the most
expensive film ever made entirely in Wales was directed by a guy called
English. After that, you can enjoy the guilty-pleasure hack and blood nonsense
of this sort of proto-Game of Thrones,
which bears almost as much resemblance to British history as George RR Martin’s
souped up re-tread with extra dragons.
Anyway, King John (Paul Giamatti) has signed Magna Carta –
as always that document which gave the barons some say in the government is
here reimagined as some sort of manifesto for a socialist revolution – but now
Rome has told John that he doesn’t need to stick to it after all. So John hires
(honestly) a load of Viking warriors to take out his enemies. Yes that is just
as silly as it sounds. Before we know it, the barons need to take control of
Rochester Castle, a stronghold which is apparently the key to the south of
England. So Baron William d’Aubigny (Brian Cox) puts together a “Dirty Dozen”
(well Dirty Half Dozen, it’s a British budget after all) to defend the castle,
led by Templar knight Thomas Marshall (James Purefoy). Let the siege begin!
If that doesn’t give you an idea of the way the film mixes
and matches parts of British history into some sort of heady brew, I don’t know
what will. We got King John! We got Magna Carta! We got Templar knights! We got
Vikings! All of this is frozen into a hyperviolent mixture of historical epic
and “men on a mission” war film, with added limbs flying off left, right and
centre. Most of it is delivered at an absurdly energised pace. At least all
involved seem aware that they are making a stoopid B movie, rather than some
sort of genuine historical epic.
Criticising the history of the supposed historical epic
seems completely superfluous, so instead sit back and enjoy the skill with
which Jonathan English apes Neil Marshall in his blood letting and imaginative
slaughter. Sure, he hasn’t got Marshall’s narrative skill or his ability to
carve human interest out of even the most basic cardboard characters. But he
still manages to present what we see with enough sense of action and adventure.
Ridiculous as it might feel that a tiny group of men holds off an entire legion
of King John’s troops, you sort of go with it as the film is shot with enough
sense of ragged viciousness that you don’t notice the gaps in the tiny budget
(less than a single episode of Game of
Thrones).
The actors all know they are in something rather silly as
well. It’s a bizarre mixture of people, from Hollywood star character actors to
B-movie stalwarts to Brit TV stars to slumming classical actors. James Purefoy
grounds the stuff with his usual commitment and charisma. Just as well he does
as Paul Giamatti clearly rocks up in the spirit of a lark, hammily overacting
to such a ludicrous degree that he sounds like John Adams on a bad acid trip.
It’s a surprise they don’t turn him on the walls of Rochester Castle and let
him chew through the defences. Between these two hardly anyone else gets a look
in, although Brian Cox does well as the brave leader of the castle who suffers
a particularly brutal death involving mutilation and imaginative use of a
catapult.
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Some typically subtle restrained work from Paul Giamatti |
There are some impressive set pieces and some very stirring
bits of head mashing, limb slicing violence but the overall plot is completely
bog standard, as if with all that investment they either didn’t have time to
put a story together or felt that they needed to make something that would
appeal as much as possible to the lowest common denominator in order to recoup
the costs. But at least there is a nice sense of growing comradeship between
this hardy gang fighting against the odds and the film gets some sense of
honour and duty being causes worth dying for against tyrants. I mean, it’s not
there in spades, but it’s there.
And if you like this sort of B movie hack and dash stuff
you’ll probably actually rather like this. Heck I’ve seen it twice, and I found
the second viewing actually rather good fun in particular, especially as I knew
going into it the entire film was an absolutely absurd pile of nonsense
designed to just let you watch blood spray across the screen and heads depart bodies.
Roll with it – put your critical facilities on hold and forget the history –
and you will rather enjoy its earnest B movie antics.
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