Starved for justice

Arty prison drama Hunger is harsh but
uniquely atmospheric

BRUTAL AND BEAUTIFUL: Hunger

by MALCOLM FRASER

Until then, we get a picture of life in prison at a particular place and time, with portraits of a new prisoner (Brian Milligan) and a violent guard (Stuart Graham).

Like Steven Soderbergh’s Che, Hunger eschews biopic conventions in favour of matter-of-fact realism, depicting the details of its subjects’ everyday lives, and it takes a similar distance from political judgment, refusing to reduce the characters to black and white stereotypes.

But unlike journeyman trickster Soderbergh, McQueen is making his first feature after several short films made in the context of the art world (in which he won the prestigious Turner Prize). Knowing this, it’s impossible not to see the film as a little, well, arty—the pacing and composition often recall a gallery installation more than anything we’re used to seeing in narrative film. Although there are occasional flourishes that seem to have more aesthetic value than anything to add to the story, in general McQueen’s approach gives the film a wholly unique atmosphere.

Despite the harsh circumstances in which it’s set, the film is uncommonly quiet, with minutes going by at a time in silence. This is broken by a long, intense dialogue between Sands and a visiting priest (Liam Cunningham), an acting tour de force, which gives the film’s only insight into Sands’ politics and personality.

Viewers be warned, the film is extremely difficult to watch, almost all the way through. Sands’ starvation, which finds Fassbender achieving Machinist-era Christian Bale levels of real emaciation, is only the icing on a cake of brutal violence, copious bodily fluids and extreme close-ups of bed sores. But the originality of McQueen’s style, not to mention the contemporary relevance of this look at the treatment of widely despised political prisoners, make it worth the harsh experience.

HUNGER OPENS THIS FRIDAY, APRIL 17