3.5 stars
When will Ian McShane get the perfect starring role he so clearly deserves? His turn in Kings was very fine but Deadwood is about the only thing that has really made full use of his deep well of talent. He is by far and away the highlight of 44 Inch Chest, but is as usual in a supporting role. Without him, this movie would just be a nasty, blustery shamble.
The plot is basic enough: a guy's wife cheats on him so he and his pals kidnap her paramour and hole up in an abandoned warehouse (or something; we're never told why they can do as they please there with no people ever around in the streets), deciding whether to kill him, or wot. There's plenty of f's to go around, more than plenty in fact, and lots of brogue and bluster as well. But there wasn't enough truly sparkling dialogue for my taste (or for a film this non-stop talky), and I got bored an hour in.
Each actor is fair enough, though John Hurt's hammy staginess is a lowlight. But
blame the script: it's a little too self-satisfied yet empty in the long run. Plenty of pseudo-philosophical rambling about the sanctity of marriage etc, and insinuations that all men are frustrated would-be killers, but after a while it all goes nowhere fast and I began longing for something, anything, to relieve the onsetting boredom of watching the cuckold simmer in his own sour juices.
Fortunately someone had the wisdom to cast McShane, who walks away with this film as is usual when he appears in anything. His stolid self-assurance and ironic eye, cast askance upon the world, plus that deep stentorian rumble grafted onto a character bound to become a gay icon, add up to a thoroughly captivating performance that could easily grab a supporting Oscar but of course won't, this being a Brit film after all.
It's funny: watching McShane, you realize that a truly great actor can take most any line and make it seem brilliant. Which leaves the rest of this cast out in the cold, as none of them did much for me. All competent, but none memorable. The weirdly whiny script, perhaps meant to show how much marriage really means to guys (?) but actually showing what a bunch of tossers this lot is, does them no favors, and in the end 44 feels like a weakly filmed stage play with too much pondering and not enough cinematic brilliance.
All in all, worth watching for McShane, but a rather unpleasant and boring film once all is said (lots and lots) and done (precious little).