Small Time Review

• 8th Oct 2010

As is often the case with a distinctive director’s earliest efforts, Small Time – Shane Meadows’ 1996 no-budget debut – is interesting as an early demonstration of the artist’s unique style at its least honed.

The subjects of the film – a comically inept gang of petty thieves –and the setting – a dire Nottingham suburb – are well-suited to Meadows’ penchant for kitchen-sink situations. The buddies-hanging-out vibe, accompanied by zippy, funny dialogue, places this film stylistically amongst Meadows’ better-known efforts.

The director himself co-stars as Jumbo, the motley crew’s de facto leader and an unsavoury type who abuses his girlfriend (whose extramarital fun provides some blue humour) and serves as a negative influence of best mate Malc, who, encouraged by his girlfriend, dreams of escaping his dead-end lifestyle.

We follow the rag-tag gang as they embark on all manner of farcical half-baked criminal schemes, like lifting dog food from a corner shop and rampaging through a car boot sale. Plot-wise, things are kept pretty loose; there’s a minor heist storyline that humorously exposes the limitations of the crooks while paying tribute to the heist movie genre, but this doesn’t take up too much screen time, allowing Meadows to concern himself with portraying the bleak yet often amusing lives of his characters through loosely-connected set pieces, with the odd surreal group dancing scene tossed in.

As a dissection of what makes the director tick, Small Time is invaluable. While as a stand-alone entertainment it is wanting in some areas: it never makes its mind up stylistically, flipping from slacker comedy to gangster movie, to artsy kitchen sink drama without committing enough to any and it lacks a strong central character. For its flaws though, it’s a unique piece of cinema and worthwhile for any fans of Meadows’ work.

Also included with this release is the short Where’s The Money, Ronnie!, a tribute to Kurosawa’s Rashomon, where four criminals give their differing accounts of a robbery gone awry. It’s a manic ten minutes that again serves as an interesting demonstration of Meadows’ raw talent.

Small Time is out on 11th October.