Tony
Nothing to do with this British psychopath I’m happy to say- ooh the satire – the murderous villain of Gerard Johnson’s British urban horror debut Tony is a far more, dare I say it, sympathetic figure in that at least he’s honest about it. The review shorthand for this promising feature is to phrase Tony as Henry: Portrait Of A Serial Killer remade by Ken Loach and to be fair I can’t better the simile. On the first analysis what was most intriguing about the film which I hadn’t gleaned from the grim trailer was just how funny it is, an obsidian black comedy punctuated by some necessarily shocking murders, none of which are served up in any sort of leering or exploitative fashion. It’s quite a ride that never outstays its brisk 70 minute run time, whilst certainly not for everyone its sure to be a cult favourite for years to come.
Tony is an uncomfortable study of a psychotic and bumbling misfit whose inept activities, in an echo of the infamous Dennis Nilsen case, blocks the drains of his east London council flat with dismembered human remains, but also operates as something of a comedy of manners as we witness his dementedly desperate attempts to secure some sort of human connection in his life, a quest destined to failure due to his utter lack of any social skills. In an episodic structure Tony lures the dispossessed and desperate back to his flat in an misguided effort to make friends – some local drug addicts, a pick-up artist he meets at a local gay bar – and when his frustrated attempts at interaction are thwarted his murderous instincts arise, Tony reacting without any premeditated malevolence but more in a confused internal rage, a lack of empathy or understanding that has festered throughout his pathetic solitude due to a back story that is deeply camouflaged into the films unnerving ambience. When a young child goes missing the police and absent child’s father suspicions fall on our protagonists shoulders, a mysterious disappearance that may or may not be related to Tony’s sinister activities….
We quite clearly have two terrific new talents on our hands, both Johnson’s mature and subtle direction – quite an achievement given the predilection for first time directors to be as flashy and exuberant as possible to attract attention to their work – providing a perfectly sombre backdrop to the films events. Although the approach is nothing new, a matter of fact, unobtrusive hand-held aesthetic, the attention to detail (having grown up on these mean streets of East London Johnson acted as his own location scout) brings to mind the aforementioned Loach and most impressively Alan Clarke, nothing is exaggerated and events unfold in a naturalistic fashion against the humdrum backdrop of dour council estates, poorly furnished flats, cornflakes for breakfast and fish & chips for tea. Peter Ferdinando’s terrific execution of the simultaneously terrifying and sympathetic Tony is astonishing, mark my words this guy is going to go far and although it’s a very different type of performance I was reminded of Robert Carlyle chilling portrayal of Begbie in Trainspotting and I predict a similarly stratospheric elevation in profile. I wouldn’t doing my job if I didn’t reference the soundtrack given that it was provided by Gerard’s brother Matt Johnson*, one of my all time musical idols. OK, naturally I am biased in that respect but it is pitch perfect, I was deliberately straining to hear it given that it’s the first work he’s produced in a decade but in the interests of being neutral it does blend into the films DNA, like his brothers direction it doesn’t scream attention to itself, instead providing an attentive soundscape to Tony’s psychosis.
Tony’s encyclopedic recall of Van Damme’s oeuvre and his perfect quoting of lines from the likes of First Blood (and a hilarious reference to this) signal a damaging psychological reaction to trashy eighties action movies, Johnson however never posits this as some sort of accelerant to the killer’s sinister behaviour but serves them more as amusing reference points for genre fans which along with Tony’s ignorance of the notions of personal space or other conventions of social discourse are all played out for their intrinsic elements of uncomfortable, deadpan (heh) humor. It depends on your sense of humor I guess but I found this film hilarious as did my mate and a couple of patrons a few rows behind me, it’s reassuring to know I was in good company.
The Q&A with both Ferdinando and Johnson (but alas no sign of the score composer) revealed an astute deployment of extremely limited resources, they managed to raise a mere £40K that was spent over a paltry 12 day shoot, considering the quality of the end result from at least a technical standpoint the film is quite an achievement as it looks as if ten times that was lavished on the production. Ferdinado explained that he lived in Tony’s real life East London Council flat for the duration of the shoot and channelled the depressing effects of his spartan surroundings into his performance, it certainly shows on screen. Two facets of the film that I loved which Johnson elaborated upon was the approach of delving into a week or so of this characters life before exiting without any obtuse commentary, without any lessons or ideological points being scored about the people who slip through the cracks of society (either Tony or his victims), merely presenting the events and letting the audience fill in the gaps. Secondly he echoed my mild frustration at the recent duplications of London on-screen, a proliferation of red buses, of chattering tourists, all those majestic tableaus of the Gherkin and the capitals skyline which seem trapped in some New Labour
sponsored corporate video for the Olympics. Don’t get me wrong, I love my city in all its diversity and with all its inherent contradictions but there is more to it than some infuriating Match Point simulacra (I hated that film on a number of levels but the presentation of London was ludicrously infuriating), more than the Guy Ritchie mockney playgrounds or the Notting Hill airbrushing of reality that Tony eviscerates. Apart from Cronenburgs Eastern Promises I can’t recall a more pleasing entry into the London film genre on the historical artefact front than Tony, then again I might have been reading Sight & Sound a little too much recently….
* Look at that crowd go!! That is not the best example of his work believe me but was some new footage I’ve sourced tonight, mostly for my mates amusement – I can get a bit Q magazine completist sometimes. Here are some better examples of The The’s music, it might be dated in places (well, OK, it’s all dated but fuck it) however I still love it like a Carpenter movie…
Minty's Menagerie 
Recent Comments