Described by the director as his most personal, heartfelt movie, it shows surprising restraint in its depiction of violence, and is different enough from Alan Clarke’s 1988 TV original (which made a name of Gary Oldman) to justify Love’s decision to revisit it.
But it is, at the end of the day, a film about English football violence that by virtue of the director’s own cinematic CV is going to attract the very people it’s seeking to “condemn”.
Love’s film unfolds from a different perspective to Clarke’s by focusing on Dom (Calum MacNab), a wannabe football lad who gets drawn into the dangerous world of the West Ham firm’s top hooligan, Bex (Paul Anderson), during the height of early-1980s football violence.
At first exhilarated by the prospect of being part of a new family and the intoxicating high of the edgy tussles with rival firms, Dom quickly finds himself out of his depth as Bex’s seething hatred for rival leader Yeti (Daniel Mays) threatens to get out of hand.
Will he be able to step back, however, without having his new friend turn on him as well?
Love’s film succeeds in creating a sustained air of menace that’s in keeping with the volatile unpredictability of Bex, while capturing the danger and thrill of Dom’s awakening. Love has, in fact, confessed that Dom is very much an incarnation of himself as a younger lad – someone who is happy to stand in the middle of the mayhem, to watch and say he was there without being called upon to stand up front and take the blows.
MacNab captures this mix of fear and excitement in convincing fashion, while Anderson exudes menace as the increasingly unstable Bex, expertly contrasting his day-to-day existence as a suited estate agent with the freedom of expression that comes with his status as tracksuit-clad gang leader. He is every bit as menacing as Oldman.
The violence, when it arrives, is much less stylised than in Love’s previous films (The Football Factory and Outlaw especially), and erupts in quick, chaotic bursts that do feel genuinely authentic.
But no matter how hard he protests, Love can’t avoid the pitfalls of every film in this particular genre. The sense of expectation is so high throughout that viewers are invited to feel the rush when the violence is eventually unleashed.
As a result, you can’t help but imagine that such scenes will appeal to the very same people who flocked to see his previous work, or who get their kicks from football-terrace taunting.
Love doesn’t help himself, either, by opting to give The Firm a trendy backdrop, highlighted by a hip jazz-funk 1980s soundtrack and playing up the fashion trends.
His film therefore looks good and displays a knowing sense of style and humour that makes it easy – even fun – to watch, no matter how expletive-ridden the language, or dire the situation. Indeed, some of the banter feels more in keeping with Guy Ritchie-style gangster speak, which affords its characters a coolness they don’t really merit.
The Firm is at its best when depicting the quieter, more intimate moments of Dom’s life – such as in scenes with his loving dad (brilliantly played by Eddie Webber) and sympathetic mum (Camille Coduri), who remain mostly oblivious to the danger their son is putting himself in.
Likewise, insights into Bex’s home life abound with cautionary situations, including an eye-covering moment in which his young son finds his Stanley knife and begins playing with it near his mouth.
It’s then that The Firm really taps into the futility and stupidity of gang culture, and forces the viewer to question why apparently normal men would
actively seek such violent, regressive outlets.
Sadly, in between, viewers will probably be having too much of a good time to really do much probing. Love, to be fair, doesn’t seek to make Bex heroic or even tragic, but his obvious fascination for the camaraderie and “brotherhood” that exists as part of gang culture is difficult to deny – even though his ending belatedly attempts to convince us otherwise.
Hence The Firm, by virtue of its very hip qualities, still unsettles for all the wrong reasons because of its refusal to really take a step back from the culture it’s depicting.
A film told more from the perspective of Bex’s wife, or even Dom’s parents as they slowly realise their son’s predicament, would perhaps put a more realistic alternative slant on the effects of football violence.
With this in mind, you can’t help but feel that Love has scored an own goal no matter how accomplished his film otherwise remains.
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