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Showing posts with label filth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label filth. Show all posts
Thursday, September 26, 2013
Thursday, September 26, 2013
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The first thing you notice is the teeth. Glistening white chompers nestled serenely in McAvoy's cosy gums. These are the teeth of a movie star, carefully sculpted into existence by a team of top showbiz dentists. What they are not is the teeth of a drug-raddled, chain-smoking, alcoholic policeman on the edge. It's been a while since I read Irvine Welsh's Filth and much of it has faded from memory, but two things wedged themselves deep within my mind. One were the bizarre hallucination sequences involving a talking tapeworm. The other was the central character of Bruce Robertson, who is about as repulsive a hero as I've ever encountered in any fictional work.
Both book and film show a policeman spiralling into insanity, repeatedly committing acts of such demented sociopathy, a man engaged in long term evil plans to ruin his co-workers, fuck every woman that is unfortunate enough to cross his path and shovel enough cocaine up his nose to turn his skull into a snowglobe. There's a murder to be solved and a promotion to be won as the backbone of the narrative, but both film and book are only tangentially concerned with moving the plot forward, and far more interested in dissecting what makes this monster cop tick.
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