Bronson

By Jack Randall

Bronson is a Bertoluccian temple to the bestial deity that is Charles Bronson, “Britain’s most violent criminal.” Formerly Michael Peterson, formerly a circus strongman, and formerly a bare-knuckle boxer in London’s East End (his promoter donned the Bronson title on him), Bronson managed to turn a seven-year sentence for robbing a post office into life without parole. How? He loved every minute of prison.

With no trace of whoever Michael Peterson may have been, a makeup-covered Charlie Bronson takes to the stage to tell his life story. Played expertly by Tom Hardy, this alter ego has no other desire but to become famous through sheer anarchical force of will. Brute force and sheer rage blend seamlessly with quick wit and a sometimes-affable nature to create a character who can only be described as the eye of a hurricane. A brilliant artist, his other hobby is taking hostages, stripping naked, donning war paint, and taking on guards in full riot gear. In any other man it would seem a death wish, but for Bronson you can tell it’s sheer love of the game.

Thirty years in solitary confinement do not a stable mind make, and director Nicholas Winding Refn jumps in and out of Bronson’s self-narrative with ease, all the while Refn accomplishes such visual mastery that the contrast with the sheer brutality is in and of itself a reflection on the duality of Bronson. The story meanders through the hundreds of institutions that have attempted to hold him, in the process making him Britain’s most expensive prisoner as well. Bronson succeeded in making a name for himself, so strip down, rub on your armor, and get ready.