CROSSING THE LINE, set in both rural Scotland and Glasgow during the Thatcher administration, is a grisly pugilistic melodrama, more intent on taking vicious whacks at the Iron Lady than in telling an involving story.
Danny Scoular (Liam Neeson), a rebellious but likable ex-miner, lost his job during the union-busting strike of 1984 and has been unable to find gainful employment. Despite his refined wife Beth's (Joanne Whalley-Kilmer) love and support, it's killing Danny psychologically to have to depend on
his spouse's earnings to survive and he's desperate for any chance to reclaim his manhood.
That opportunity comes when Frankie (Billy Connolly), Danny's temperamental, sleazy longtime friend, introduces him to Matt Mason (Ian Bannen), a suave, well-heeled Glasgow criminal with big plans for Danny. Using his most insinuating charms, Matt convinces the out-of-work miner to enter the
world of bare-knuckle boxing: a brutal sport that, nevertheless, will earn Danny a great deal of money--if he survives it.
Beth cannot understand why her husband would be a party to an illegal match, let alone risk brain damage--for any sum of money. Their argument over the matter prompts Beth to pack up and, kids in tow, return to her parents' home. Undaunted, Danny proceeds to train for the illicit bout, but, when
the big day finally arrives, he must face the grim reality of what he's in for: a bruising, maiming fight with a burly, brutal veteran pugilist. The actual fight is violent, shocking and very bloody.
CROSSING THE LINE is hard-edged and slickly executed from beginning to end, with an intensity that doesn't abate for a single moment. Unfortunately, that's also the film's greatest flaw. Director David Leland doesn't allow the audience a moment to reflect on the drama unfolding onscreen, and the
unrelenting tension almost overwhelms the plot at times. In fact, the film's violence and sensuality are so pronounced that these elements threaten to obscure the central characters altogether, causing the spectator to cringe with revulsion rather than eliciting any sympathy for the Neeson
character. Also, the film's unrelenting bitterness and hard-nosed criticism of the Thatcher regime undercuts its entertainment value; the filmmakers were clearly more concerned with venting their resentment of Thatcher and her policies than in telling a good story.
Certainly the performances cannot be faulted. Neeson is splendid as the victimized ex-miner who suffers a brutal beating in the ring, and Whalley-Kilmer lends him first-rate support as his frustrated wife. Likewise, Bannen is terrific as the oily villain who snares Neeson into his devastating
match, while Connolly also acquits himself well as Neeson's misguided childhood friend. Finally, the fight, which comprises almost the entire final third of the picture, is one of the most stomach-wrenching, brutal and bloody boxing bouts ever filmed. There is no question that it's effective, but
it really is just a bit too much. (Excessive violence, substance abuse, profanity, sexual situations, nudity.) leave a comment
