Don’t take the title of this film the wrong way. 44 Inch Chest is not about a buxom starlet by the name of Chesty Larue or Hootie McBoob. No, this film is all about men. Manly men. Manly men who speak with British accents. That’s how you know someone is a badass when they speak with a tough British accent.
44 Inch Chest comes to us from director Malcolm Venville and screenwriters Louis Mellis and David Scinto who penned the amazing gangster pic Sexy Beast. That film gave us Ben Kingsley in his anti-Gandhi performance as a maniacal criminal who refuses to take no for an answer. Kingsley isn’t anywhere to be found, but Ray Winstone is back with an all-star collection of English hard men. You’ve got Ian McShane, John Hurt, Tom Wilkinson, and Stephen Dillane. Prepare to choke on the testosterone.
Chest opens stylishly and succinctly sets the tone for the rest of the picture with Winstone as Colin Diamond laying nearly-catatonic amidst the wreckage that was once his home. Harry Nilsson’s cover of Badfinger’s “Without You” plays on a loop. Colin’s wife, Liz (Joanne Whalley), has dropped a bombshell on him. She doesn’t love him anymore and is leaving him for another man.
He returns home from work when his wife, Liz (Joanne Whalley), drops a bombshell on him. She’s no longer in love with Colin and she’s leaving him for another man. Colin runs a gamut of emotions from despair to remorse to anger. From there, he does what any man would do. Colin rounds up a group of his buddies to abduct the man having an affair with his wife. Archie (Wilkinson) is the most level-headed of the bunch, a nice guy who still lives with his mother. Archie’s polar opposite is Peanut (John Hurt), a misogynistic and homophobic septuagenarian on a constant conniption fit. Playing as a foil to Peanut is Meredith (McShane), an ultra-sophisticated and gay gambler. Finally, there’s the suave Mal (Dillane) who may or may not have had his own fling with Liz.
The unfortunate individual that is the target of Colin’s hatred is a hunk of beefcake only referred to as Loverboy (Melvil Poupaud). He never says a single word in the movie, but he’s young, handsome, and, dear lord, he’s French. The gang has Loverboy locked up in a wardrobe before tying him up to a chair where he’s subjected to verbal and physical abuse.
That’s the loose summary of the plot. The main narrative is broken up with various flashbacks and fantasy sequences. The most bizarre and disturbing moment has to be seeing John Hurt’s head on Joanne Whalley’s body. Another wonderful sequence finds Meredith smoothly recounting a winning night at the casino. The dialogue is one of the highlights of the film. Everyone speaks with hard R words that sound like David Mamet filtered through Harold Pinter.
The title evokes images of men bowing up with their chests puffed out. For Colin, it’s all about regaining his manhood after the utterly emasculating dissolution of his marriage. Each of the friends he’s gathered seems to represent different aspects of his psyche. Some cool and collected others hot-headed. However, much of the male bravado is a showy falsehood. Never is this more evident than in Peanut whose bark is far worse than his bite. The façade shatters when Peanut launches into another of his profanity-laced tirades and his dentures drop out of his mouth.
Let us not forget the woman at the center of all the controversy. Joanne Whalley looks exceptionally gorgeous in this film. Surrounded by wafting cigarette smoke and clad in a slinky, black dress, she looks like the femme fatale out of a classic film noir.
44 Inch Chest is a mixed bag. The dialogue is sharp and the acting is excellent with McShane and Hurt being particularly entertaining. However, Chest can’t shake the feeling of being little more than a play in front of the cameras. The script also feels a little light then padded out to be feature length.
Rating: ** ½
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