Reviews

I've heard confusingly mixed things about this film, and after seeing it for myself I realise why some people like it. Julien Temple et al made it with obvious passion and love. True romantics, who prize passion above all things, will be dazzled by this movie. However, to my regret I feel that Vigo: A Passion for Life has very little actual quality.

Possibly it didn't have enough content. Possibly the writers loved the real Jean Vigo too much to add more fiction to his life. It needed more twists and turns, more story. As it stands, the movie would have been much better if it had been half the length of a feature film. Even in 1998 film festivals would have accepted a 40-minute short film. It would have been much stronger.

Another problem was the melodrama. Theatrics is such a dangerous road to go down when you're trying to be heartfelt. If you're telling an amorous tale of passion, love and death, it's a distinctly bad thing when your audience sighs "oh for God's sake, stop it" upon seeing one of the characters storm dramatically out of the room for the millionth time.

Over-the-top is amateurish. That's why it's called OVER the top. There's nothing wrong with a bit of theatrics, but they should be used infrequently and to great effect, as opposed to in every single scene.

If it was a tribute to flailing French drama then fine. But do it in French.

In a film desperate to make every scene affecting and meaningful, only two stood out for me as at all worthwhile. In one, Vigo speaks to his little daughter over the phone, and claps his hand over the mouthpiece every few seconds to hide the hoarseness of his dying breaths from her. And in a surprisingly underplayed death scene, Vigo and his wife Lydu lie asleep in bed, her hand resting on his chest to feel it rising and falling with every breath. He dies subtly, like he's been punctured and is finally out of breath, and Lydu's hand jolts awake upon his dead chest. Seconds ago they could have said their goodbyes.

The acting is quite good. The dark and dashing James Frain has ambled down a slightly odd career path since Vigo, and here, youthful and fresh-faced (and inexplicably signing up for full-frontal nudity), he plays the infamous French filmmaker. I think Frain had quite a muddled character to work with. Jean Vigo was a real man, but he's also a character. The writers didn't build the character well. His key trait is evidently supposed to be passion, but he didn't seem any more passionate than the next man. If I hadn't seen his real films, only this one, I would ask what's so special about Jean Vigo.

Lydu wasn't passionate either. She was hysterical. She was all over the place with her feelings, she appeared to be in love with another man, and she did nothing whatsoever to deserve Vigo. One of the reviews claims she can get away with it because she's a "French beauty". I don't want to cause offence – I only bring this up because it seemed to have a part to play in the actual story – but the character of Lydu was, to my eyes, very unattractive indeed, especially (ironically) as a bride. "His beautiful wife" is part of the movie's pitch. Even if I did find Lydu beautiful, I wouldn't think it excused her mad behaviour.

Vigo: A Passion for Life had some exquisite, dappled shots, a couple of original and touching scenes, and a strong lead actor. And I thought the TB hospital was fascinating. But the writers let the side down. I could feel the love the makers had for Jean Vigo. But the story didn't hold its own: it didn't have a CORE. Was it passion? Love? Sanity? Illness? Mortality? Voice? Adulthood? It was none of those things really. The core was just... biography. Sometimes, to write a movie, you need to get a good night's sleep, put a pin in your frenzied adoration, and work on structure, plot, and something that will get your movie a fanbase of more than a small handful of besotted romantics.

Armadillo is not completely well put together, but it's confident, original, and sort of blissful.

The hook, foundation and spine of the series is all the same thing -- the protagonist, Lorimer Black. He's played by James Frain, and, for all the Frain fans out there, Armadillo is the centre of Fraindom on earth.

Lorimer Black is a loss adjuster. He investigates insurance claims, which is boring. But the way in which he thrives at his job is not boring: he tailors himself for every client, adjusting his persona, clothes, hair and accent. This puts him in a bit of an identity crisis, which stems from his big secret: he's actually a Transnistrian gypsy who's changed his Moldovan name to fit in.

We have three endless hours with Lorimer Black, and that's OK. He's handsome and sleepy and we want to take care of him (in many ways). The problem is, he feels far too good for the world of the story. He's an everyman but he knows his Shakespeare, he's stylishly rich but deeply generous, he's very successful but touchingly humble, he's the only one in the world who doesn't smoke, he puts his phone in a holder when he's driving, he has a unique taste in music, and he claims to have a "violent temper" but the only time this is shown is when he's defending the honour of a passing woman. In fact, he's astoundingly patient even when he's trying to get some sleep after being mugged and his friend wakes him up at 2AM by prodding his wound and prattling about how much money he made that day.

Lorimer Black is a diamond of a character, but James Frain makes him realistic with a powerful talent that puts all others to shame.

Out of sheer gratitude for Frain's participation, Armadillo should dote on him...

... but the beautiful thing is, it DOES dote on him.

You know when you love James Frain (yes you do) and you're watching something with him in it and you go "for God's sake, I don't care about whoever the hell that is or whatever the hell they have to say -- get out the way so I can see James Frain". In Armadillo you get as far as "for G --" before the camera obligingly cuts to our suave but wolfish object of affection.

"Why are we looking at the back of some -- OH THERE HE IS". "Who cares about this crowd of random p -- OH THERE HE IS". "We're watching the other end of the phone call, this is b -- OH THERE HE IS". "This is just an establishing shot, where -- OH THERE HE IS". "W -- OH THERE HE IS".

The camera itself is a James Frain fan, and it's not the only one. Literally half a dozen times an episode Lorimer Black is admired, often physically; even the blurb on the back of the VHS box croons that he's handsome.

And despite all this, the only woman he wants is a bragging, chain smoking, bafflingly ignorant adulterer whose name sounds like an expensive yogurt. Here's a statement for the fic writers: Lorimer Black is unshippable.

His relationship with the yogurt, played by Catherine McCormack, is completely unsatisfying. I think the writer is a bit of a prude, and the character of the yogurt is inexplicably indifferent towards Lorimer. When, in Frain's trademark sultry drawl, Lorimer admits "you do know I'm passionately in love with you", the yogurt's reaction is "good night, whatever your name is". Even at the very end, when they semi end up together, she coolly adds that she doesn't know how long it will last. Yeah, THAT'S the grand finale.

Lorimer Black doesn't belong in the grimy little world of beans and chips and over-acting. He belongs on the BBC, certainly, but not in Armadillo. He should have replaced Sam Tyler in Life on Mars, or Mickey Bricks in Hustle. Somewhere to have his character nurtured for a dozen episodes or more, and where he can be enjoyed in full HD, in a world where there's proper lighting and sharp, crisp plots and real tie-ups. They should have spent some real money on this character.

As for Armadillo independent of Lorimer Black, I stand by my judgement that it's a confident and blissful show; it's funny, too, in a tone reminiscent of Jimmy McGovern, and has some moments so original that I've never seen the like. The plot was confusing because it was a lot of exposition and the script was floppy. Everything they needed for their tale of corruption was there, but it wasn't really let out. For instance, at one point a character explains insurance by saying - "life will always come up with a nasty surprise". That should've been the tagline.

Simply put, Armadillo is not a strong enough context for its own protagonist. But without Armadillo, we wouldn't have James Frain's Lorimer Black. Hence, 10 out of 10.