Bruce Robertson is pretty much the farthest thing from an honest cop imaginable. A frequent abuser of sex and drugs, Bruce is a completely corrupt bigot who happens to be in line for a promotion and will stop at nothing to get it. Enlisted to solve the brutal murder of a Japanese student, Bruce sets out to ruin the promotional chances of his colleagues, while making himself look as good as possible. Jon S. Baird's Filth works best as a study in depravity and perversion. Bruce Robertson is a coke-snorting, backstabbing, sex-fiendish blur of chaotic nature and James McAvoy does a great job of rolling up his sleeves and diving head-first. Filth is a messy narrative that consists of way more characters than the story can support but at its best, one cannot deny how fun and visceral this experience is. As his conscience and past begin to catch up with him, Bruce becomes a surprisingly sympathetic character but some of it isn't earned. James McAvoy does a great job at capturing the struggle between right and wrong that encompasses this man, coming off as schizophrenic, but unfortunately it just isn't developed well enough early on for me to truly buy into it. Very stylish, the film uses a lot of overexposure to give the film a bright and hazy feel, perfectly matching Bruce's POV on a day-to-day business considering his over-indulgences. Filth is a film is a lot of fun, and worth seeing for James McAvoy's electric performance but I can't fully appreciate this film due to its unearned revelation due to messy narrative storytelling.
Love of all things cinema brought me here.