Cillian Murphy plays the title character in this rather downbeat British film.
Though Steve has a properly depressing British flat in a properly depressing British town, he still spends the majority of his time at the reform school that he struggles to manage. The students are rowdy and quick to fight but Steve insists that all of them can be reached if the teachers just try hard enough. Steve has taken a particular interest in a student called Shy (Jay Lycurgo). Shy alternates between moments of genuine insight and empathy and moments of pure rage. He’s practically begging for someone to take the risk to get close to him but, at the same time, he instinctively pushes people away.
Steve takes place over one 24-hour period. We first meet Shy while he’s getting high in a nearby field. Later, he takes a call from his mother and she promptly informs him that he’s no longer allowed to be a part of her life. As for Steve, he has to deal with not only a documentary crew but also the news that the building housing his school has been sold and that the school that he’s dedicated his life to will now be shutting down. Steve tries to hold back his temper, self-medicating his bad back with painkillers and alcohol.
Directed in a frenetic manner by Tim Mielants, Steve is a film that seems like it should be better than it actually is. It’s a film dealing with an important subject. Steve cares about his dysfunctional students but that’s not going to make much of a difference if his school gets shut down. Shy is intelligent but also only a few steps away from self-destructing. Cillian Murphy, who also produced the film, gives a committed performance. And yet the film is never quite as affecting as it should be.
The film itself is extremely British, which is a polite way of saying that the nonstop cursing got boring after about five minutes and the harsh lighting seemed to be designed to make sure that we understood that everyone was very, very tired. Visually, the hand-held camera work couldn’t disguise just how drab everything looked. Beyond that, though, I have to admit that, as the film reached the 60 minute mark, I realized that I was just tired of Steve. I was tired of his scraggly beard. I was tired of his constant back pain. I was tired of his stupid tennis ball. I was tired of the pained expression on his face. I was tired of his nonstop resentment and his complaining. I was tired of his inability to fight back. I was just sick to death of spending time with him. Murphy commits himself to the roll but Steve is not a compelling character. If anything, he’s a bit whiny. Seriously, Steve, don’t just lie down on the floor and talk about how much you resent things. Get out there and fight for your school, dude.
There are parts of the film that work but there are other parts that just fall totally flat. The use of the documentary crew feels unnecessary and there’s not really any payoff to their presence. A scene where a stuffy member of Parliament visits the school and talks about the importance of not allowing Britain to go communist is so poorly-executed that it almost feels like a parody of a Ken Loach film. Even when Steve finally does let go of his emotions, it feels like a false note.
In the end, I’ll give Steve credit for trying to deal with a real issue. The fact of the matter is that society — both in the UK and in the US — is far too quick to give up on those who have been deemed as delinquents. That said, the film falls flat. It’s a noble failure but failure nonetheless.
Through the Shattered Lens 