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Bronson (2008). Nicolas Winding Refn does not disappoint in this dark art house take on the notorious English prisoner "Charlie Bronson." With a premise that could easily be dismissed, Bronson turns a prolonged prison stint into a violent caricature of theater. The mind of Charlie is set upon the stage, literally, and this wily character finds his dreams of fame reified by way of celluloid.

Tom Hardy must be seen to be believed, for this performance frustrates description, but common sense will find no repose in this pathetic attempt. In the story proper, Hardy creates authenticity for a creature that defies belief, a man that so loves the physical act of the fight that we almost come to understand his joyful brutality. His frequently naked body is a testament to the feral nature that he fully employs at each and every opportunity. This portrayal is not one of sadism, but instead of a love of life through fisticuffs. This guy was built for cage-fights, but he seemed hell-bent on living there as well. Each new prison is a like a new hotel stay, where making vicious friends becomes his vocation.

Whereas his portrayal of life seems authentic, his stage presence is perfectly contrived, facial expressions held for just the right amount of time, then dropped with a sociopathic aplomb. On this dreamy stage our anti-hero gets what he wants, fame for being himself. His antics are only perpetuated through hammy makeup and histrionic mischief. He sings he plays he entertains. His creative expression finds his desperate audience, and Charlie Bronson seems truly happy for it.

Refn does a magnificent job taking the life of a thorough thug and turning it into splendid entertainment. His manipulation of the screen captures our emotions effortlessly. His creativity was daring and refreshing, dark art house has never been better. The camera work was incredible, creating a literal ballet of violence that was more entertaining than repugnant, manufacturing for the audience the literal sense of bliss that Bronson found in the beatings. In the end, the awful truth of his existence is not glorified, but his life's choices stand naked, caged up and ready to pounce.
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