Mister John, 2013.
Written and Directed by Joe Lawlor and Christine Molloy.
Starring Aidan Gillen, Zoe Tay, Molly Rose Lawlor, Michael Thomas, Claire Keelan, Michael Walsh and Ashleigh Judith White.
SYNOPSIS:
Following the mysterious death of his brother, a middle-aged man travels to Singapore to help out with the funeral arrangements and family affairs. There he discovers an exotic, intoxicating world, far removed from his troubled life in London. But as he is drawn towards his brother’s beautiful wife and the sexual frankness of the local culture he begins to realise that escape isn’t as easy as it seems…
With its first shots, Mister John appears to be heading down an altogether different route to the one it’ll ultimately take – towering fertile jungle drifts by as we pass down a river, the images backed by composer Stephen McKeon’s dramatically feeling theme, echoing Malick’s The Thin Red Line. Then, Mister John becomes something else – a sunlit noir, perhaps? – as the serenity of those opening shots are punctuated by the title character’s body floating in the water. This is ‘Mister’ John, and the man seen arriving from London to settle his affairs in the next scene is his brother Gerry (Aidan Gillen). There he stands in the airport of some unknown land, as lost as we are, being taken along some journey he can’t help but go on.
As with their 2008 debut, Helen, directors Joe Lawlor and Christine Molloy bring along an oneiric style reminiscent of David Lynch, or more closely last year’s Only God Forgives, to Mister John. As in Nicolas Winding Refn’s film, waking life and the dream world have merged, with actors moved by the filmmakers like automatons, their characters disconnected within a sweaty, gaudy far-eastern locale (unnamed in the film, but actually Singapore). There’s even a brief karaoke scene to recall Refn’s divisive opus, but Lawlor and Molloy aren’t in the market for the same brash style; they go instead for something more subtle, strange and mystifying.
Lawlor and Molloy’s world is appropriately cold and hostile for Gerry, who’s played with an internalised charge by Gillen. Largely required to appear passive even when Gerry’s attacked by a venomous snake while scouting the scene of his brother’s death, Gillen stores the secrets of his character, then attempts to bury his thoughts and desires under a strained veneer of calm. It can’t be said that the actors around Gillen gel as well as he does with the directors’ style, especially when they inhabit largely (possibly intentionally) sparse roles, but the mesmerising Gillen is the centrepiece.
As a study of identity, Mister John keeps it basic, in agreement with that ascetic style – Gerry is given John’s clothes to wear by his widow Kim (Zoe Tay), and takes John’s place at the family dinner table, gradually filling his brother’s roles as father, husband and friend. There’s a feeling that everyone is just using Gerry as a placeholder for John in order to alleviate their grief, as Gerry simultaneously uses them to escape his own life and play grown-up in another world. But he’s only pretending – Gerry dreams of a more happy-go-lucky version of himself, without ever being able to break free from his inhibitions in reality.
Mister John, then, is very much about one man in search of his place on the map. You get the feeling Gerry’s been coasting for a while, in an existence that’s loveless, sexless and emotionally detached. His look of displacement does not come from his sudden surprise relocation from West to East; glimpses of the argument Gerry had with his wife before he left London are played out like a horror film in his memory, complete with distorted dialogue and discordant undertones, and we come to realise Gerry has long been wracked with a sense of failure, of responsibility for the breakdown of his marriage. Full of jealousy, envy and repressed sexuality, Gerry is as sad a character as they come, and Mister John isn’t looking to give him any kind of peaceful resolution.
Stephen McKeon’s aching score does some emotional heavy lifting for Mister John, but praise for the deliberate mood and pacing must go to the potentially alienating style of the husband and wife director team. If Mister John – admittedly low on character development or plot – comes in as hollow on first watch, it’ll remain by your side for long after. Lawlor and Molloy provide questions and few answers, via a directorial approach that seeps into your subconscious, and it’s hard to really say what they’ve left you with. But theirs is an original enigma that breaks away from the perceived limitations of indie cinema, and stands alongside last year’s What Richard Did as another exciting work of Irish cinema.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★
Brogan Morris – Lover of film, writer of words, pretentious beyond belief. Thinks Scorsese and Kubrick are the kings of cinema, but PT Anderson and David Fincher are the young princes. Follow Brogan on Twitter if you can take shameless self-promotion.
Originally published March 5, 2014. Updated April 11, 2018.
