Programmer's Note

This feature directorial debut from much-admired British actor Paddy Considine is one from the heart — and the guts. A study in masculine rage and the stubborn durability of our need to connect, Tyrannosaur excavates the dark cavities within the human psyche. While not as old as the prehistoric beast referenced in the title, these recesses are utterly primal, and at least as old as mankind itself.

Joseph (Peter Mullan) is the sort many of us would avoid on the street or in a bar. He is tormented, middle-aged, unemployed and bristling with bad urges. Indeed, Tyrannosaur kick-starts with Joseph committing one of the movies’ cardinal sins: he kills a dog. The only immediate consolation from this jarring entrance lies in the fact that Joseph’s viciousness hardly seems unusual. Considine’s is a world in which nearly all men have the capacity for monstrous behaviour. Yet even the worst of them also holds the promise of redemption, however faint.

A relationship is soon forged between Joseph and Hannah (Olivia Colman), a thrift store proprietress. The alliance seems unlikely — it isn’t long before Joseph insults her — but this only makes it that much richer to witness the delicate ways in which their bond deepens. Hannah is tough; she’s married to a violent man (Eddie Marsan) and isn’t easily put off. So for all the things that would appear to divide these two very different creatures, they share a need to understand and come to terms with each other’s inner pain.

Considine’s gaze is unflinching. He uses long takes to lock us firmly into scenes that other directors might soften through cuts or unmotivated camera movement. He also understands how to elicit arrestingly vulnerable and raw work from his actors. Mullan gives us his grittiest and most moving leading role since My Name Is Joe, and Colman constitutes a major onscreen discovery. Few performances you see this year will leave such a lasting impression.