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The true story of Larry Winters – a violent Scottish inmate who became a prolific poet and musician after his transfer to an experimental prison – provides a fascinating source for this criminally underseen 1990 film.
Hayman eschews linear narrative, instead framing Winters’ story as a series of flashbacks, flights of fancy and nightmarish apparitions that come to him over the course of the drug overdose that would kill him. This ambitious approach allows the director to escape the drab confines of the prison and explore Winters’ past: we flip between scenes from his former home life, his time serving in the army and the senseless act he was convicted for. The overall effect is infinitely more fluid and abstract than a conventional approach would have allowed for – more like a great concept album than a biopic.
Robert Carlyle showed plenty of promise in his early supporting role as a prison guard, but it’s Iain Glenn’s mesmerising starring performance that makes the film. He makes for an intense, brooding antihero, yet full of vulnerable humanity. It’s a performance of light and shade that conveys the ambiguity of the character brilliantly.
This is a film that demands greater recognition, a totally singular viewing experience boasting one of the great performances of British cinema at its centre.
Adam Richardson