April 26, 2006
Pierrepoint (15)
Dir: Adrian Shergold
Timothy Spall, Juliet Stevenson, Eddie Marsan
Between the 1930s and 50s, Albert Pierrepoint killed 608 people. But Albert was no criminal. Quite the reverse. As Britain’s premier hangman, he dealt-out the death penalty with skill, precision and a genuine regard for the dignity of life. This humble little film tells his tale and sheds fascinating light on a little-seen slice of social history.
It’s certainly a remarkable story. A grocer from Oldham applies to be an official hangman. He becomes so renowned for his speed, efficiency and respect for the victim that Field Marshall Montgomery appoints him to despatch over forty Nazi war criminals in one busy two-week period. Taking pride in his work and committed to the secrecy and dignity of his office, Pierrepoint is unsettled by growing public awareness and comes to question the trade that made his name.
A joint Granada TV/UK Film Council production, Pierrepoint falls somewhat uneasily between a drama-documentary, a soap and an ethical agit-prop. Affecting at best, over-egged at worst, it certainly betrays its made-for-tv roots. Pierrepoint’s biggest strength isn’t the solid performance of Timothy Spall, it’s the coolly-done camerawork that steps inside the cell and brings us up-close with the hands-on detail of hanging. Pierrepoint’s peep-hole measurement of the victims; the pre-planned method of catching them off-guard; the brisk “follow-me” walk to the noose; the no-nonsense despatch – all is captured with a clipped and chilly hand-held camera that cleverly gets us to experience the business of death as both executioner and executed. “They’re innocent now” says Pierrepoint as he takes the bodies down and decently prepares them for burial. It’s a telling line that thoughtfully highlights the humanity at the heart of this hangman’s approach. And director Shergold lends weight by having silence accompany every inter-action between the characters – music kept only for transitional moments.
It’s a pity then that this admirable restraint doesn’t extend to script and characterization. Spall convinces as the executioner, but is less surefooted as the man who changes his mind. A powerfully overblown scene of emotional excess, as the pressure takes its toll, is – sad to say - almost risible. And there’s a distinctly hammy aspect to too many set-ups – as when Pierrepoint has to step in for his cocky superior who goes all queasy when the moment comes, and Pierrepoint’s just happening to drive by an anti-capital punishment rally so we can see them shout at him. Juliet Stevenson as his no-questions wife is wasted and gives a Coronation-Street-with-A-levels performance. Great though to see Eddie Marsan, as Pierrepoint’s pal, get a plum role – making all those summer seasons at Wadham College doing Shakespeare worthwhile. It’s a neat idea, too, to contrast the clinically-cool cells of Pierrepoint’s confident period with the paint-peeling, cobwebby halls of his doubting phase, but the telegraphing of these touches belongs more to TV than to film.
Strong as a documentary, dire as a drama, Pierrepoint is fascinating and frustrating. In that order.
Dir: Adrian Shergold
Timothy Spall, Juliet Stevenson, Eddie Marsan
Between the 1930s and 50s, Albert Pierrepoint killed 608 people. But Albert was no criminal. Quite the reverse. As Britain’s premier hangman, he dealt-out the death penalty with skill, precision and a genuine regard for the dignity of life. This humble little film tells his tale and sheds fascinating light on a little-seen slice of social history.
It’s certainly a remarkable story. A grocer from Oldham applies to be an official hangman. He becomes so renowned for his speed, efficiency and respect for the victim that Field Marshall Montgomery appoints him to despatch over forty Nazi war criminals in one busy two-week period. Taking pride in his work and committed to the secrecy and dignity of his office, Pierrepoint is unsettled by growing public awareness and comes to question the trade that made his name.
A joint Granada TV/UK Film Council production, Pierrepoint falls somewhat uneasily between a drama-documentary, a soap and an ethical agit-prop. Affecting at best, over-egged at worst, it certainly betrays its made-for-tv roots. Pierrepoint’s biggest strength isn’t the solid performance of Timothy Spall, it’s the coolly-done camerawork that steps inside the cell and brings us up-close with the hands-on detail of hanging. Pierrepoint’s peep-hole measurement of the victims; the pre-planned method of catching them off-guard; the brisk “follow-me” walk to the noose; the no-nonsense despatch – all is captured with a clipped and chilly hand-held camera that cleverly gets us to experience the business of death as both executioner and executed. “They’re innocent now” says Pierrepoint as he takes the bodies down and decently prepares them for burial. It’s a telling line that thoughtfully highlights the humanity at the heart of this hangman’s approach. And director Shergold lends weight by having silence accompany every inter-action between the characters – music kept only for transitional moments.
It’s a pity then that this admirable restraint doesn’t extend to script and characterization. Spall convinces as the executioner, but is less surefooted as the man who changes his mind. A powerfully overblown scene of emotional excess, as the pressure takes its toll, is – sad to say - almost risible. And there’s a distinctly hammy aspect to too many set-ups – as when Pierrepoint has to step in for his cocky superior who goes all queasy when the moment comes, and Pierrepoint’s just happening to drive by an anti-capital punishment rally so we can see them shout at him. Juliet Stevenson as his no-questions wife is wasted and gives a Coronation-Street-with-A-levels performance. Great though to see Eddie Marsan, as Pierrepoint’s pal, get a plum role – making all those summer seasons at Wadham College doing Shakespeare worthwhile. It’s a neat idea, too, to contrast the clinically-cool cells of Pierrepoint’s confident period with the paint-peeling, cobwebby halls of his doubting phase, but the telegraphing of these touches belongs more to TV than to film.
Strong as a documentary, dire as a drama, Pierrepoint is fascinating and frustrating. In that order.