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Tyrannosaur: Surviving the Road to Ruin

By Andrew Stires · November 20, 2011

Just in time for the holiday season comes the heartwarming tale of Hannah (Olivia Colman) and Joseph (Peter Mullan) in the fun-filled, family film Tyrannosaur. Sadly, my attempt at humor doesn't make up for the fact that the opening moments of this movie made me cry. This is a film that contains so much pain, hurt, anger, and unspeakable acts of cruelty that by then end I was just glad I survived it.

In hindsight, I should have asked to review The Muppets. Tyrannosaur is a good movie but extremely hard to watch. It's a movie I will never forget, and also one I probably couldn't watch again. There are scenes that will be forever burned in my brain. For all its brutality, though, there is a message. Our time here is short, and it is useless to be consumed with anger, rage, hate, sadness, and hopelessness. We need to take care of ourselves and each other. We have the capacity to lift one another from the darkest places, but of course, as this character-driven film so finely demonstrates, all that is easier said than done.

The movie opens with Joseph. All we need to know about him is revealed in the first few scenes. He is a man trapped in a never-ending cycle of rage, regret, and more rage. We find him at possibly his lowest point when he takes out his anger on the only companion he has, his dog. This first scene alone crushed me, and I knew I was in for one long, hellish journey. Joseph is not a likeable character, and we are constantly challenged to empathize with him. The pain he is capable of inflicting on himself and others is atrocious. He is trapped in a downward spiral as bleak as the tired, gray the town he calls home. And it is not only Joseph who is consumed with anger; his own rage is mirrored in the people around him. Yet we also glimpse a part of Joseph capable of reaching out to others, like the boy Samuel (Samuel Bottomley) who lives across from Joseph with his mom and her pit bull loving, pissed-off boyfriend. It seems only when Joseph is confronted with others' pain is he capable of suppressing his own anger, but just barely. The threat of him exploding at any minute is a constant threat in every scene. He is a man on a road to ruin until salvation appears when he seeks refuge at a charity shop owned by Hannah.

In the first of many powerful scenes between the two, Hannah attempts to comfort Joseph who is huddled between racks of clothes, weeping. Hannah prays for him, and Joseph later returns the favor by ridiculing her and her Christian faith, claiming she will never understand what is his like to be poor and hopeless since she lives in the better part of town. We soon learn Hannah's life is anything but perfect. She is an alcoholic and trapped in an abusive marriage with her husband James (Eddie Marsan). The scenes between Hannah and James are some of the most difficult to watch; nothing is held back. Eddie Marsan owns the character and will haunt me for a long time to come, and James is the epitome of evil, a character we hope will get what's coming to him. Hannah's fear and pain are palpable in every scene. At one point, when James begs forgiveness, we see her pretend to acquiesce, but as she cradles his head in her lap, the look on her face speaks volumes. This is a scene that has played out a million times before, and she is a woman at her breaking point. It's no wonder she finds solace with Joseph, however troubling that prospect might prove to be.

Hannah and Joseph's relationship is the crux of the film. It is unrelenting in its intensity and truly amazing to watch. The acting is phenomenal, and at times I forgot I was watching a movie; it all seemed so painfully real, and I was overcome with a flood of different emotions as the film progressed. Watching these two damaged souls struggle to help each other is heart wrenching, nerve-wracking, and frustrating. The majority of the scenes are fraught with an overwhelming tension, and from a screenwriting perspective, it's important to note how much story and character is conveyed without dialogue. Sometimes it's best to just step aside and let the actors act. At one point, when Hannah is on her knees, crying for Joseph to hold her, he just stands there, frozen, not saying a word. All the emotion is conveyed in the look he gives her; all the uncertainty and doubt about their future is revealed in his eyes. This is great screenwriting. And incredible acting

Thankfully, the film doesn't take the easy way out. Hannah and Joseph don't end up happily ever after, their hardships forgotten, every obstacle overcome. If it had ended this way, it would have been a disservice to the characters and the story, as well as a huge insult to the audience. No, the film continues to challenge us. We're left with the feeling that these characters are on a road to redemption, each in their own way, hopefully with each other's support. I was filled with a sense of cautious optimism for Joseph and Hannah; there is hope, however distant it may seem, but how easy it would be to fall back into hell. Tyrannosaur left me exhausted in a way few movies do. A part of me wished I hadn't seen it and been spared Joseph’s tragic road to ruin, but I'm glad I did because Tyrannosaur speaks to the power of film and the immense emotional impact it can have on us.