Shallow Grave

19

I watched Shallow Grave in the theater and walked out a changed man. Not changed mentally. Or physically, of course. But cinematically. It’s a simple film, sure, but something about its bad attitude and frenetic editing played for both art and a tough-guy crime thriller bloodlust thing that my young brain was really into. It felt aggressive in a highfalutin way that pinged my sense of youthful wildness just coming off a four-year stint at an institute of higher learning and being launched into a world where I could easily be Ewan McGregor’s lame reporter character. I started college as a newspaper journalism major, after all. Plus, this was the first mainstream movie I’d seen with male frontal nudity since Life of Brian. These Brits truly did not care about showing dicks on screen. Trust me, it wasn’t a common thing back then like it is now.

This film is supposed to take place in Edinburgh. I’ve been to Edinburgh, and this is not that. No, this is definitely Glasgow. I’m not sure why any of that matters, but I just wanted to brag I’ve been to Europe and am pretending to know what different cities in Scotland look like after spending a few days in each. Thing is, Edinburgh is specific, but apparently Glasgow offered better filming incentives. Why they didn’t just change which city this is taking place in I have no clue. Danny Boyle did the same city-for-city switcheroo with his next movie,Trainspotting, as well. Weird. Whatever the case, the non-human star of the story is the large flat in which our three protagonists live in not-really-Edingburgh. It makes the Friends loft look like a pauper’s hovel. It also made me wonder what I was doing wrong as I sat in my tiny studio apartment with its mini-fridge on 85th St. in NYC. Granted, all three of our characters being closer to 30 and established in their careers gave them more gravitas than my entry-level production assistant gig, but still… Anyhow, the whole gist of this thing is that these three pretty awful people are looking to take on a fourth roommate to fill up their palatial estate. I’m not even certain if it’s to close some money gap, or it’s just so they can toy with the “new guy” and just generally be assholes to anyone outside the trio. Because it’s pretty much established from jump that these three are not particularly nice people. Especially McGregor’s Alex Law character, who just seems to live on booze, cigarettes and snark.

But, yeah, the first portion of the film revolves around the interviews for this new roommate. And, man, are these roommates dicks. They get all kinds through the door answering their classified ad. Because who wouldn’t want to live in this awesome flat? But they summarily dismiss some with awful putdowns, and others they just personally destroy in the interview process just to be assholes. Like a lot of indie movies of the early 90s, the dialogue is a little stilted and literary. Delivered with almost play-like aplomb. This is due in most part to McGregor’s enthusiastic youthful energy, but also the lower-key, very established British delivery of Christopher Eccleston. The third roommate, Juliet Miller, played by Kerry Fox, mostly distracted me with her resemblance to Elisabeth Moss. But she is a doctor and receives piles of mail from male admirers who she seemingly teases with the possibility of physical intimacy, but never actually doles any of it out. Eccleston’s character, David Stevens, seems to be the British equivalent of a CPA and is the buttoned-up, uptight type who clearly also harbors some desire for Juliet. She’s like a femme fatale black hole. Which seems to only half-work on Alex because he’s maybe bi-sexual, but also probably gay? It’s never expressed aloud, but there are very large hints at his proclivities. In any case, despite them talking a big game, all three of them seem mostly disinterested in sex and the things that otherwise motivate healthy, young people. It’s an intentional choice, no doubt. Until, of course, it comes to money.

Ultimately, the three jerks choose an older, mysterious guy to be their new roomy. Who almost immediately locks himself in his bedroom and overdoses on smack. Good call, guys. Thing is, this mystery man is also a criminal who has stored a suitcase stuffed with tons of cash under his bed. Which they discover when snooping in his room after they realize he’s died in his bed. Now… these are supposed to be bright people. But they do an incredibly not-bright thing. Instead of just taking the suitcase, hiding it somewhere, calling the cops and have them haul the body away — which would be the normal thing to do — they hold on to the stinking corpse, don’t contact the authorities and decide to chop up and dispose of the body in order to keep the cash. Why in god’s name would they do that? It’s not like the cops would know about the suitcase of money. They could just say they took the guy in as a roommate, he paid for his room for cash and that they don’t know anything about him and leave it at that. Which is 100% true. But, no, they have Juliet steal a hospital van (something they never really explain) to transport the body to the woods so they can chop it up and bury it in… a shallow grave in the woods! Overkill, my homies.

And like all stories about greed and the power of money, the roommates’ relationships start to fracture. Our most solid, mature character, David, starts to mentally unravel after drawing the short straw and having to hack the body to pieces. Juliet starts to put that sexual appeal to work in order to manipulate David, and somehow our perspective shifts to Alex. And damn if they don’t make us align with this absolute joke of a human being. One who basically yells the entire film. And wears terrible socks. Serious coke energy. But he’s the only local — or at least the only Scot — and is a little younger than the other two. And is seemingly the only one of the three not completely blinded by the money. Or by whatever is going on with Juliet — because, you know… Which, though not explicitly said, may be due to his lower societal standing and being more working-class and not as wrapped up in the power of social climbing and money. Or not, I don’t know. But, yeah, we now have to root for this dude who was generally a bratty jackass for the first chunk of the film. Especially when the cops and the bad guys associated with the missing / dead roommate get involved and the pressure (and violence) comes to the flat.

Part of the appeal of this film is its simplicity. The story is very straightforward, with the focus on the characters, the filmmaking and just the general vibe. This being Boyle’s directorial debut, he definitely went for it in places. There are some points where he clearly pulls some early 90s MTV music video shit out of his bag, but also some nice audio and video intercutting that made this thing feel a little elevated for 1994. There are some action scenes — one in particular where Juliet is wrestling with both David and Alex — that get a little confused, but generally Boyle shows that he has a strong POV and an idea of the type of film he wants to make. The man subsequently won a directing Oscar, so I suppose this was the spark. And, honestly, you can kind of feel it. There is a creative something here that took this relatively uncomplicated crime thriller, found some up-and-coming young stars, added his Hitchcockian twist on the end of things and made something unique and satisfying. There are definitely some plot holes and some serious yada-yada narrative blank spots (how is Juliet able to get her hands on a hospital van multiple times, why don’t the investigators notice all the holes drilled in the flat’s ceiling, how does a doctor seem to have so much free time, why boost Alex up to look through the transom into the dead guy’s room when there is literally a ladder leaning against the wall next to him, etc.), but the relatively DIY feel of the whole endeavor gave it a nice rawness that marked this as a classic foundation to my love of these types of quintessential 90s crime films. It’s a film I think about often, in a way that is way outsized to its footprint in the history of both my and Hollywood’s legacy. Like I said, it changed me.