Actor-turned-director Paddy Considine’s remarkably assured debut begins with ageing widower Joseph (Peter Mullan) giving in to a fit of fury and kicking his yelping dog to death - instantly followed by wordless contrition. Later, when a boorish, cowardly neighbour's vicious dog threatens Joseph with a menacing snarl, Joseph tells the dog, “its not your fault”. Joseph, himself a grizzled, vicious old mutt, knows an animal can only take so much humiliation and punishment before it bites back. Welcome to the world of Tyrannosaur, or, one angry man's unflinching search for redemption from beasts inside and outside - including the beasts that are now bones in the earth serving as reminders of the past.
Escaping the aftermath of another violent outburst, Joseph runs into a Samaritan shop run by Hannah (Olivia Colman) who responds to Joseph’s hostility with Christian charity (after Joseph introduces himself as Robert De Niro, Hannah responds, “Would you like me to pray for you, Robert?”). Joseph delivers a blistering, condescending summation of what he considers to be Hannah’s perfect little life – which, in actuality, is far from rosey. Hannah lives in fear of her brutal, sexually demanding, God-fearing husband James (a brilliantly chilling Eddie Marsan), and numbs her fear with drink. Eventually she leaves James following a particularly terrifying violent episode, and seeks solace in Joseph. Joseph, who was similarly cruel to his late wife (who he nicknamed 'Tyrannosaur' due to her obesity), begins to exercise self-control now that he sees his cruel tendencies, and their grizzly consequences, reflected in other people.
The piss-soaked streets, dim, decaying interiors and the simple guitar-driven score help plant Considine’s film in familiar British neo-kitchen-sink territory similar to recent work from Clio Barnard, Andrea Arnold, Mullan, and Considine collaborator Shane Meadows. Most of all, however, I felt Tyrannosaur was cut from the same cloth as fellow actor-turned-director Gary Oldman’s Nil By Mouth. Colman, like Kathy Burke in Oldman’s film, is primarily known for her comedy work, but here displays a mournful vulnerability that becomes increasingly more complex. And boy, does James make her suffer – she is pissed on, beaten, sexually abused, must withstand tearful faux-apologies (“I don’t deserve you”) and also pretend to believe them. Like Oldman (who gets an end-title shout-out) Considine gives us effective domestic brutality but does not get off on it, edging into exploitation. A horribly tense, tender shot of James cupping Hannah’s cheek, for example, is instantly followed by the loud whack of Joseph destroying a shed. The centerpiece of Tyrannosaur is Mullan’s gruff Joseph – his meatiest performance since his breakthrough in My Name is Joe. Despite the pleasure of hearing Mullan's deep Scottish growl, his best moments are silent and observational - Joseph sitting on his couch among the ruins of his destroyed shed, for example, like a hurricane who has stopped to reflect on his destruction. Considine makes sure Tyrannosaur is not without a few moments of levity – but the order of the day here is bleak, hard-worn redemption, the kind where the only way out is through.
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