It's generally considered a violation of the unwritten code of film criticism to reveal anything that happens more than halfway into a movie, let alone near the end. But these are unusual circumstances, and anyone attending Stephen Frears's new film Liam should really be forewarned. If you think you're a hardy sort and want to be shocked, skip this paragraph now. It seems only decent, however, to warn the rest of you that Liam culminates in a terrorist's Molotov cocktail setting a child ablaze, and the burned body being carried out in the aftermath. Most of us have had our fill of that sort of thing for the moment.
Admittedly, it isn't meant to be exactly a crowd-pleasing moment in context, but the shock now carries a new level of horror that director Frears and screenwriter Jimmy McGovern could not have intended. Thankfully, there's also a running theme of tolerance for all races and creeds, though perhaps that wouldn't include the strict Catholic Church of 70 years ago. The film is set in 1930s Liverpool and follows the travails of a Catholic family struggling with poverty, religious tensions, and the coming of war.
At the center of it all is Liam (Anthony Burrows), an adorable, stuttering eight-year-old who looks as if he left infancy behind only yesterday. The film milks his cuteness for all it's worth, whether he's shown singing a song to avoid getting his words trapped by that dreadful stammer of his or wielding an oversized school bell to sound the end of recess. The film makes up for those cute moments, however, by making everything around Liam seem perfectly horrible. Angela's Ashes seems almost like Wet Hot American Summer by comparison.
Liam is part of a household of five. Older brother Con (David Hart) works an unspecified job that leads to resentment, once Dad (Ian Hart) loses his own source of income at the shipyard. Sister Teresa (Megan Burns) cleans house for a rich Jewish family, but feels obliged to pretend that she too is Jewish. Mam (Claire Hackett) tries to hold everything together in the meantime, keeping the landlord and the local priest at bay (the church demands tithes for an unemployment fund, even though most Catholic men are too proud to draw from it).
Frears has yet to direct a bad film, and this one, for all its moroseness, is no different. The details are exactly right: From the smoke-filled pubs signposted "Not licensed for singing or dancing" to the impressive period cityscape of Liverpool at night, he has created an utterly believable world. It's not all gloom and doom either, with plenty of humor to be had at the expense of the archaic Catholic education system and even the often-tense religious rivalries.
Still, the dark tone of the ending is amply foreshadowed and designed to leave a bad taste in one's mouth -- a goal it certainly succeeds at. Though the film came out a year ago in the U.K., the timing here is unfortunate, and one has to wish that, like so many bigger productions, Liam could have migrated to a more distant release date.
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