A great Mike Leigh double-feature. I may have seen Meantime ages ago. Bits of the middle felt familiar. Regardless, so very worth the rewatch or first watch, whichever it was.
Meantime just slowly crushes you. It made me think of This Is England – I’m sure it was a reference for Meadows. The thing about any Mike Leigh film – there’s not a performance moment that rings even close to false. It’s all just so tightly done. You can feel that every character – every actor – is in the right skin for every single moment. A lot of this is casting. You can’t go wrong with Tim Roth, Marion Bailey, Alfred Molina…Gary Oldman! But it’s also just a cast clearly given some room to maneuver, having rehearsed, and knowing their role inside-out.
Alongside all these other names, it’s perhaps Phil Daniels as Mark that really sticks out. He’s so full of repressed anger and menace. He doesn’t have the jangly nerves of Oldman’s Coxy, or the tired snarl of his father Frank (Jeffrey Robert). He’s witty and sarcastic, unpredictable, and oddly enlightened. He’s frustrating to be around and magnetic. He has so much going on underneath and you can feel him holding it in.
There’s also an absolutely hilarious turn from Peter Wright as the man who comes to fix the windows. He’s polished (or wants to be), charming (or wants to be), intelligent (or wants to be), philosophical (or wants to be)…there’s a bit of dialogue where Barbara (Bailey) corrects him on his definition of economics and you can just see his face tightening. He’s almost about to lose it! But he pulls himself together.
There are so many great scenes. I loved the blocking of this one. A long static shot down the hallway. Mavis (Pam Ferris), Frank, and Mark march back and forth, waiting for Colin (Roth) to get out of the bathroom:




It’s pretty close to comedic – long hallway, lots of doors, heads poking in and out. But there’s so much rage – as in the entire film – that it’s not funny. You get the sense that Colin might just be hiding. It continues in this way-




Leigh expertly uses the other four doors – where camera is, which will eventually be revealed and where Mark goes plowing from, the other bathroom where Mavis stands in the image just above, the door on the left where Frank comes in and out of, and the door on the left at the end of the hallway. There’s never more than a half-second where someone isn’t in the frame.



It’s crowded and everyone bumping into each-other just adds to the frustration of it all. It’s the timing that’s so good, and the excuses to move. Mark puts his jacket down in one room, gets a cup of tea, and goes to another; Mavis brushes her teeth and knocks on the door; Frank knocks on the door, yells after Mark and putzes around in the kitchen. They all have something to do in different spaces, forcing new movement, making them like pinballs colliding with one-another.
Finally at the end, Colin leaves the bathroom (first image of the three above). He marches away from camera and Mark teases him while he’s (Colin) off-screen. Then he rushes back towards us. Mark follows and we land in this OTS:


It’s a great camera placement – set up so well for both shots – and I love how it ends with the brothers separated from the parents and very much together and in conversation. It’s their film after-all. This feels like foreshadow of the ending.
Life Is Sweet
Life Is Sweet is a good pairing with Meantime. Siblings take center-stage. It’s another oddball relationship, one visibly and audibly seething with anger (in this case it’s Jane Horrocks and Nicola), the other more stable in this case (Claire Skinner as Natalie). Leigh is also so good at making people different – something that should be obvious, but isn’t and is difficult. Natalie and Nicola are sisters, but they’re worlds apart in nearly every way: how they dress, how they speak, how they interact with their parents, how they walk, how they interact with guests in the house. It’s great character work.
Jim Broadbent is great as Andy. There’s also fantastic turns from Stephen Rea as a local drunk and con man; Timothy Spall as an immature, overly confident/hopeless restauranteur; and David Thewlis as Nichola’s sort-of-boyfriend whose initial introduction belies his real, and deeper, character.
But it’s Alison Steadman as Wendy who holds the film. She’s everything in this and is always moving. Her introduction – teaching kids to dance – says a lot about what she wants, what she misses, where she’s herself…and of course her sense of humor (that laugh!).
I love Life Is Sweet because it doesn’t always go where you think. Case-in-point: Andy buys a beat-up food truck. Patsy’s (Rea) reaction tells us it’s illegal and that Andy doesn’t know it. Two expectations: Wendy is going to be really pissed and it’s going to cause friction, and someone’s going to come for that truck. Neither one happens. Life moves forward. Wendy accepts Andy’s choice because she knows he’s wonderful. Patsy just continues to exist in the world. And it doesn’t feel like a cheat. It feels real, and there’s plenty of other drama to fill that space.
A scene with Aubrey (Spall) at his restaurant is so good. There’s a later one that is both funny and unnerving, but here’s a look at the first time that we – and Wendy and Andy – see his place.
I like that we start with the two sisters. This is a film about family, so going between their close-ups to end the scene is a strong transition out:





Those close-ups serve two purposes for me: to keep the girls “in” even when they’re out (ending on their CUs has their presence linger in the next shot), and it’s a nice contrast of their relationship opposite that of their parents.
Great different cars – great beater for Andy, red and flashy for Aubrey. Also, The Regret Rien is sandwich between Fitted Bedrooms and something that looks like a healthcare company, both in the same bland palette. Hilarious. Is the name of the restaurant an Edith Piaf reference? Aubrey’s motto?
The cut inside is also so good. Leigh mines it for comedy. How do you say what this restaurant is going to be? I’d argue that a severed, stuffed, cat head is a bit of a predictor. The camera cuts wider and pulls away as Aubrey goes through some of his decorating plans:





Spall’s Aubrey performance is all pursed lips, shuffling feet, squinty eyes, big fashion, and sudden outbursts. It’s such a creation.
Cut wider as Aubrey goes through the rest of it – birdcages on the ceiling, bikes in windows, fish frozen in the foreground. The place is a hodge-podge, maybe perfect for some corners of the world, but not here. It’s a nice last camera below, pulling away with Aubrey and landing with the tank in the foreground motivation to bring Andy and Wendy up to it. Good camera in a small space:






Another wide-to-tight transition as we cut to one of Aubrey’s sauces. Again, a good way to get insight into what this restaurant is for Aubrey: presentation, style, his way. That’s a pretty still life below (frame #1). Cut medium wide 3-shot to medium wide 3-shot as they move through the space. The pace is pretty brisk with a lot of dialogue. These bold yellows and wildly packed frames – food, candles, wall decorations – really speak to the style, and opposes the rest of the look of the movie:






I love the last frame above. Aubrey pulls the phone cord around the corner and we get a moment alone with Wendy and Andy. They see the disaster coming. Finally we’re not head-on just watching (look at the three 3-shots above – we’re always flat to them, like a distant observer). Now we’re in the conversation, more comfortable, seated at the bar.