'Calvary' - Movie Review

 

After a three month hiatus (apologies) - spent tackling the post-graduate beast - I felt I could not ignore the urge to review what will likely go down as one of my Movies Of The Year, Calvary. Acknowledgment must go to my lovely wife, who helped put this review together. You stay classy, Planet Earth.

My favourite films are those which dare to give plot the backseat treatment. When a character is unshackled, given license to roam, I often forget that there was a meaningful plot to begin with. It was only in the closing scenes of Calvary that I was reminded it was a whodunnit affair. I was so affected (and consumed) by Father Lavelle (Brendan Gleeson) and his flock that I had forgotten that there was a death threat levelled against the priest in the extraordinary opening scene.

We begin by following Father Lavelle into the confession booth, where we hear from a man who tragically reveals that he had been raped by a priest as a child. I expected to hear that it was Father Lavelle who had committed the crime, but what the unseen man went on to say was even more shocking. “There’s no point in killing a bad priest,” the man explains, “but killing a good one – that’d be a shock.” It’s then that we are told that Father Lavelle should expect to die the following Sunday, just long enough to “get his house in order”. From here we follow Father Lavelle as he goes about his duties over the next seven days – edging towards that fateful day.

 

John McDonagh’s debut directorial film The Guard showcased the Irishman’s ability to write and direct. It was a memorable film, one which dabbles in comedy and sees Brendan Gleeson take a role of authority. Calvary returns McDonagh and Gleeson to Ireland, yet this is a darker affair, one which mixes smart (and dark) British humour with the kind of drama and uncensored dialogue you would expect to find in a Hemingway novel. The deeper we dive into the closets of those that make up this coastal Irish town (County Sligo), the darker the film grows and the clearer we see McDonagh’s desire to “make a film about a good priest” (Empire Magazine Australia, July 2014, p28). What should be applauded is that this priest is not your stereotypical priest that rids himself of the world to guard himself from ever really entering the world. The rich and layered characterisation – and compelling contradictions – begin here with Father Lavelle and never let up.

It’s surely the exquisite writing of John McDonagh which draws in this brilliant British cast – some of whom only have one scene to leave their mark. All of the Father’s flock, from his suicidal daughter (played elegantly and thoughtfully by Kelly Reilly), to the local wife-bruising butcher (a mature Chris O’Dowd), to the jaded atheist doctor (my favourite Game of Thrones actor, Aidan Gillen), to the hedonistic African immigrant and his mistress (Isaach De Bankole and Orla O’Rourke), to my favourite “suspect” and secondary character, the detached and depressed wealthy businessman Michael Fitzgerald (a career-best Dylan Moran), are interesting and beat off potential “caricature” whispers. In truth, I absolutely love when British dramas bring this flair to characterisation and fill films with characters who are quirky, unique and perhaps sometimes over the top.

I can’t recall ever seeing Brendan Gleeson this commanding onscreen. He’s got an odd charm about him – perhaps we should put that down to his Irish heritage – and the relationship he is developing with McDonagh has many thinking back to Scorsese and De Niro. There’s definitely the same stoicism, which, again, gives way to moments of rage. What I find most compelling about Gleeson and his character in Calvary, however, is their refusal to paint the man-of-God character as just another thoughtless (and brainwashed) wonder. Integrity is spoken of in the movie quite a bit, and it is refreshing to see some of it in this priest. Instead of defending the sinful actions of the Catholic Church and despicable clergy, Father Lavelle affirms fault and wrongdoing, yet stands firm in his vocation. All of the torment, wrongdoing and grief in the film helps lead to the greater theme of forgiveness.

One of the key scenes to depict Father Lavelle’s integrity and ability to forgive is in his visit to a local criminal, Freddie Joyce. A convicted rapist and cannibal (played by Gleeson’s son, Domhnall Gleeson), Freddie is seen pleading with the Father for forgiveness. Lavelle doesn’t seem to think that the young man possesses remorse, yet he’s not one to tell the inmate that he’s destined for hell. In this we are taken aback by Lavelle’s ability to reach out to someone who has strayed beyond society’s line of forgiveness.

In fact, all of Lavelle’s flock are lost in some way – and many of them take their anger out on the priest – yet there is a respect and love for the Father’s steadfastness and integrity.  The scenes between Lavelle and his daughter somehow bring the film full spin and we come to deal with grief, loss and what it means to live in such a broken world. The remarkable turning point for Fiona Lavelle comes at the end of the film... but that’s something you’ll have to see for yourself.

McDonagh explains that Calvary is “quite a novelistic film”, which in today’s world means it will not be widely released, nor hugely sought after. Despite this, Calvary offers one of the best leading roles of 2014 and will also leave us eagerly anticipating McDonagh and Gleeson’s third film in the “Glorified Suicide Trilogy”. 

9/10