Stephen Knight: 'Locke'

I finally got round to watching Director, Stephen Knight’s movie, ‘Locke’ [1.], the other day.  I was reminded of the film by Shaun Morris’ blog mention to it, a few weeks back, - recalling that it was one of those that fell through my net when on limited cinematic release in 2014.  For a while I kept forgetting the title too, - in another of those disquieting indications of advancing middle age.  Anyway, whilst buying milk and potatoes in Sainsbury’s recently [2.], - there it was on DVD, and at a price that it would have been rude to ignore.  It turned out to be a right bargain.

Still From: Stephen Knight (Dir.), ' Locke', Shoebox Films/I M Global, 2013/14

Like another recent favourite from last year, ‘Under the Skin’ [3.], ‘Locke’ is a low budget/high impact example of how many of the best film makers are squeezing really interesting results out of pretty economical means these days.  Like that film, it also features a very strong central performance from a relatively mainstream actor, (in this case, Tom Hardy as the eponymous Ivan Locke), working under somewhat experimental conditions.

Still From: Jonathan Glazer (Dir.), 'Under The Skin', Film4/BFI, 2013/14

In ‘UTS’, some of the most intriguing scenes were those in which Scarlett Johansson’s emotionally blank alien prowled the streets of Glasgow in an anonymous white van, as reflected lights and glimpses of the outside world played across the windows of her enclosed cab like a film within a film.  ‘Locke’ takes that to even more symphonic visual extremes; becoming an elegy to the unceasing, hypnotic parade of vehicle lights we’ve all experienced while travelling in cars after dark.  The vaguely Post-Rock atmospherics of Dikon Hinchliffe’s score also contribute admirably to that mesmeric world [4.].  However, whilst Scarlett eventually got to walk about and interact with others, (however haltingly), in an alien landscape beyond her vehicle, Hardy spends the entirety of this film behind the wheel, on a single, solo, motorway drive.  His only interaction with a small cast of additional characters, (and the only way that the plot can therefore advance), is via a constant stream of phone calls, and those few occasions when he talks out loud to himself or to his imagined father.

At this point, a little exposition is probably necessary.  We first encounter Ivan Locke as he gets into his car at a massive construction site in the West Midlands.  He is, we learn, a highly accomplished concrete specialist, respected for his dependability, and a solidity of character matched only by the materials he works with.  As the story gradually unfolds through his numerous phone calls, we also learn he enjoys a stable family life with two adoring sons and a devoted wife.  He commences his journey on the eve of “the largest concrete pour in Europe, outside of the nuclear or military industries”, (a PR phrase he repeats throughout the film with increasing resignation, like a mantra of jeopardy).  He should be on his way home for an enjoyable family evening watching football on TV and an early night.

Still From: Stephen Knight (Dir.), 'Locke', Shoebox Films/I M Global, 2013/14

Instead, Locke sets off to drive to London in order, it transpires, to attend the premature birth of a child he has fathered as the result of an uncharacteristic, brief liaison with an emotionally fragile woman he hardly knows.  This single act, based on his unshakable need to subsequently ‘do the right thing’, stems from a deeply held resentment towards his own absent and unreliable father.  It also triggers a train of events in which the certainties of career and marriage unravel over the phone as he drives on through the night.  Relieved of his official post, he still attempts to fire fights the several crises besetting the preparations for the concrete pour remotely, (via an increasingly panicky subordinate).  Simultaneously, he fields calls from, amongst others, his wife, his sons, his superior, medical staff, and the terrified mother-to-be waiting at the end of his journey.  The film ends as he nears his destination, having, in two hours, seemingly lost everything, “apart from myself and the car I’m in”.

If, as I’ve seen it billed, ‘Locke’ is a thriller, it is purely one of an implied or psychological variety.  Relatively little actually happens on screen, (in terms of action, - loads happens in other respects), yet the events overtaking the subject are life changing and existential in nature.  By limiting the main character’s arena to a few cubic feet of enclosed interior space, events can only be internalised by him, and his psychology be thus laid bare.  I’m tempted to make connections with Joel Schumacher’s thriller, ‘Phone Booth’ [5.], in which a flawed protagonist is forced to confront his own actions behind glass and over the phone, with a sniper who has him pinned down in a telephone kiosk.

Still From: Joel Schumacher (Dir.), 'Phone Booth', Zucher/Netter Productions, 2002

Naturally, the success of a character study such as this hangs on the lead performance.  I know very little about Tom Hardy, other than that his previous work appears to have been in fairly mainstream blockbusters.  It’s all the more impressive then that his work here is so controlled and focused.  His Ivan Locke is a man clearly used to dealing with the world with unflappable logic, and a hitherto unshakable belief that everything can be put right through determination and perseverance.  He is a man, as his wife puts it, whose very footprints turn to stone.  The certainties on which he has attempted to base his life are paralleled by the need to create the most stable concrete foundation possible for the tower that’s being built. 

Certainly, there’s nowhere for Hardy to hide, as his face necessarily fills much of the frame for the vast majority of the film.  He proves adept at conveying the growing sense of exasperation overtaking Locke in admirably subtle ways.  Even when he does let loose, it’s to himself, and he repeatedly tries to reset himself to his rational, softly spoken default state before fielding the next disquieting piece of information.  Even as he is forced to admit he may even be going a little mad, the impression is that this is just another issue that will have to be dealt with.  Some actors might attempt to convey all this with increasing levels of cartoonish derangement but Hardy communicates it mainly through subtle changes in facial tension or vocal intonation, and the occasional momentarily frustrated slump over the steering wheel.  Such anger as may be building within him, appears mostly blanketed by bemused stoicism.

Still From: Stephen Knight (Dir.), 'Locke', Shoebox Films/I M Global, 2013/14

‘Locke’ subjects its protagonist to considerable existential/psychic travail, but it’s striking how this plays out within completely technological contexts.  It’s a distinctly First World fable.  Ivan Locke’s life may be unraveling, but it does so from the comfort of his BMW’s leather upholstery, and via its integrated, hands-free communication system.  It’s a reminder of how even the scariest parts of our lives are often insulated from the outside world or mediated through channels.  The downside is, as so many now find, that he must be constantly available to others, and is required to deal with multiple situations both simultaneously and remotely.  The point he appears most lost, but also, most cut free potentially, is that at which he just lets his phone ring.

Still From: Stephen Knight (Dir.), 'Locke', Shoebox Films/I M Global, 2013/14

Essentially, Locke’s real problem is that, as a consequence of his own actions, everyone now wants a piece of him.  Forced to prioritise, - he’s unable to square the circle of keeping everyone happy, and the price he must pay for abiding by his own code of personal ethics becomes massive indeed.  Only as he starts to doubt his own sanity do we glimpse the cracks in his personality.  His strange personification of “The Concrete”, the suggestions of the hubris often attributed to builders of towers, and the accusations leveled at the father he imagines in the rear-view mirror, all point to that code being as much based on psychological fallibility as on nobility or calm reason.  Perhaps it’s a singularly male tragedy that those destined to suffer most, (himself apart), are those closest to him.

I suppose, given my own current enthusiasms for concrete and driving at night, and a general taste for a little psychology with my drama, it was inevitable I’d be drawn to ‘Locke’.  It stands up as quality gear in its own right though, and I’d recommend it to anyone who doesn’t require every film they see to be populated by superheroes and Hobbits, or to mostly resemble a computer game.  It’s up there with a handful of movies I’ve seen over the last couple of years, all of which manage to be intriguing and pleasingly experimental, without becoming completely elitist in their avant-garde affectations.  Like ‘Under The Skin’, ‘A Field In England’ [6.], and ‘The Double’ [7.], amongst others, it also proves that the most satisfying and thought-provoking cinema is often now made without an extravagant budget or overwhelming digital trickery.

[1.]:  Stephen Knight (Dir.), ‘Locke’, Shoebox Films/IM Global, UK, 2013/14

[2.]:  Should I be concerned by how often routine trips to the supermarket feel worthy of comment on this blog just lately?  Are my horizons too narrow?  Am I spending far too long in these vacuous places?  (Dunno, - Possibly, - Yes).

[3.]:  Jonathan Glazer (Dir.), ‘Under The Skin’, Film 4/BFI, UK, 2013/14

[4.]:  Albeit not quite as experimentally as Mica Levi’s much vaunted ‘Under The skin’ score.

[5.]:  Joel Schumacher (Dir.), ‘Phone Booth’, Zucker/Netter Productions, USA 2002

[6.]:  Ben Wheatley (Dir.), ‘A Field In England’, Rook Films, UK, 2013

[7.]:  Richard Ayoade (Dir.), ‘The Double’, Alcove Entertainment/Film4/BFI, UK, 2013/14