Video review: "Trainspotting 2"

It’s funny how the long-term cultural relevance of a film has such low correlation with its box office tally. “Trainspotting” earned only $16 million in 1996, but is arguably one of the most influential movies of the past quarter-century. Certainly, director Danny Boyle and star Ewan McGregor have become important figures.

Its sequel, “Trainspotting 2,” made more than double that -- but, I think, is destined to be largely forgotten in popular culture, in much the same way the “Wizard of Oz” sequel was.

(See? Bet you didn’t even know there was one.)

It’s a well-made film: entertaining, smart, sharp performances and plenty of nifty items out of Boyle’s bag of filmmaking tricks. In the end, though, we’re left wondering why this endeavor needed to happen.

We revisit the old gang of addict/criminals 20 years later, now middle-aged guys in various states of evolution, or not. Renton (McGregor), who ripped off his pals after a big drug score, turned to straight work in Amsterdam. Begbie (Robert Carlyle) has been serving hard time in prison ever since, dreaming of getting his hands around Renton’s throat.

Simon “Sick Boy” (Jonny Lee Miller) has taken over his family’s crumbling bar, and runs a little extortion racket on the side. Spud (Ewen Bremner), the gentle, somewhat dimwitted soul of the bunch, is very much the same -- working itinerantly in between getting high and visiting his wife and son.

After a health scare, Renton returns to look up his old friends -- well, not Begbie -- to see if there’s any way he can make amends. Spud is receptive, Sick boy less so. But they’re eventually back to their old ways, doing drugs and dreaming up cons to run. Begbie soon escapes from prison and comes seeking his own sort of reconciliation.

Renton’s old screeds about commercialism overtaking middle-class values are nicely updated for these streaming-and-Tweeting times. Maybe the real lesson of “T2” is the old saw about things staying the same the more they change.

Bonus features form a short list, but it’s pretty meaty stuff. Boyle and screenwriter John Hodge team up for a feature-length commentary track, there’s a making-of featurette with Boyle and his cast, plus deleted scenes.

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Review: "Trainspotting 2"

“So we all get old and then we can’t hack it anymore? Is that it?”
                --Mark Renton, “Trainspotting”

“You’re a tourist in your own youth.”
                --Simon aka “Sick Boy,” “Trainspotting 2”

File “Trainspotting 2” under Sequels We Never Thought We’d See. (Not to be confused with Sequels Nobody Wanted; e.g., “xXx: Return of Xander Cage.”)

“Trainspotting” from 1996, which followed a rough group of Scottish heroin addicts/thieves, launched star Ewan McGregor and director Danny Boyle, who have both gone on to major movie careers. Serious, Oscar-winning filmmakers tend to shy away from sequels because they’re seen as a generally unworthy endeavor.

But Boyle has long expressed interest in a sequel, though it took a while to round up the old gang. And it turns out that Irvine Welsh, the author of the book upon which the first movie was based, penned a follow-up novel that revisited the characters about 10 years later.

“Trainspotting 2” takes us even further out to 20 years. Our young anti-heroes -- Mark Renton (McGregor), Simon “Sick Boy” Williamson (Jonny Lee Miller), Danny “Spud” Murphy (Ewen Bremner) and Francis Begbie (Robert Caryle) -- are now middle-aged schlumps struggling to get on with meaningful lives.

The story (screenplay by John Hodge) brings the quartet back together to address old grudges, work out their individual disappointments and dream up some new schemes. It borrows heavily from the first movie, from particular shots to musical cues, including a reversal of the famous ending scene where Renton walks toward the camera with a cynical admonishment to “Choose life,” having just ripped off his mates following a big drug score.

I’ve seen the movie and I’m still not sure how I feel about it. Certainly, I liked it. Almost equally as certain, I don’t think it needed to be made.

Watching it is not unlike the experience of an estranged friend showing up on your doorstep after a long absence, a meeting filled with awkward pauses and mumbled apologies. When they leave a part of you is glad to have seen them again, while the other part wonders if some things are better left unsaid, some mysteries savored for remaining just so.

Renton has been living in Amsterdam working a straight job in accounting. He returns to Edinburgh after a couple of life-changing experiences, and to look up his old chums and see if forgiveness is a possibility. He finds Spud clean (albeit temporarily) but out of work, estranged from his wife and son.

A truly gentle soul, who seems to have gotten even more bird-like with the passing of years and the thinning of his plume-like shock of hair, Spud stands a bit apart from the story and acts as our eyes and ears.

Sick Boy is still addicted, though shifted to a more upscale cocaine habit. He runs his family’s run-down old pub, and has a side business setting up his prostitute girlfriend, Veronica (Anjela Nedyalkova), with well-to-do customers so he can film the antics and then blackmail them.

His reunion with Renton is less amicable than Spud’s, at least initially. Soon they’re back in cahoots, reminiscing about old times, running new scams and seeing who can be the first to betray the other.

Even less amenable is Begbie, the truly terrifying psychopath who seems to enjoy hurting others for its own sake. He’s been languishing in prison this whole time, and has Renton’s name on his lips in an unceasing litany for revenge. We know things are going to end grimy and bloody.

“Trainspotting” was an edgy, groundbreaking film because it provided us a funny, caustic window into the lowest dregs of society, then turned that glass around into a mirror that asked if everyday lives were really that much better. “Trainspotting 2” underlines many of the same themes without adding any meaningful postscript.

Reeling Backward: "Angela's Ashes"

"Angela's Ashes" is a virtual case study in the challenges of translating a great book to the screen.

I read Frank McCourt's book about his incredibly harsh Irish childhood just last year, and immediately knew this was one of the best pieces of literature I would read in my lifetime. It's searing and revealing, offering an unflinching portrait of people at the absolute bottom of civilized society. There is great human ugliness, squalor, untimely death, hidebound religious dogma, and soaring joy.

While watching the movie, I was struck by the similarity to "Precious," one of 2009's best films, about a teen girl dealing with similarly soul-crushing adversity. Separated by 40 years and an ocean, the childhoods of Claireece "Precious" Jones and Frank McCourt were not so different.

But the film version of "Angela's Ashes," while an earnest and honorable attempt, fails to capture the breadth and depth of the novel. It's directed and co-written by Alan Parker -- one of my favorite filmmakers ("Mississippi Burning," "The Commitments") -- and clocks in just shy of 2.5 hours. Still, it feels like a truncated cinematic Cliff's Notes version of McCourt's book.

Although there is narration, it does not capture the mesmerizing first-person perspective of the novel, with an adult McCourt recalling and analyzing his situation with the weight and wry humor of years. For example, when Frank's mother (Emily Watson) goes begging at the church mission, and is mocked by the patriarchs on the board to the approval of the clucking hens of the female congregations, it just doesn't have the impact of the book. The shame and hypocrisy don't translate.

I liked Robert Carlyle as the father, a tragic figure who McCourt describes as the perfect father, except for his addiction to alcohol. Watching him repeatedly squander the family's meager funds on drink is just heart-breaking, and Carlyle adds notes of self-loathing not seen in the book.

The three actors portraying Frank -- Joe Breen, Ciaran Owens and Michael Legge, from youngest to oldest -- do decent jobs, although we never really connect these innocent boys with the world-weary man narrating the action.

I was surprised reading the book how much sex was in it -- I still make jokes to my wife about "The Excitement," McCourt's phrase for all things sexual -- and pleased that Parker kept much of it in the film. After all, even boys on the edge of starvation do not lose their carnal craving. Although I noticed that he ended the movie with a typically inspiring shot of the Statue of Liberty, instead of the surreptitious little sex party Frank and some Irish ship officers engage in with some American wives.

The best thing about "Angela's Ashes" the movie is the atmospherics and mood. Shot in real Irish locations, including Limerick, where the book is set, Parker's film perfectly captures the dank dripping streets, the grimy men with coal dust trapped in the creases of their faces, the shabby rotting apartment where the McCourts live.

"Angela's Ashes" is worth watching for those who have read and adored McCourt's book, but I wouldn't recommend the movie for people who are still strangers to it. Watching the film version makes me want to pick the book up again, to experience the blissful work of pain and love.

2.5 stars