Hunger

The basic unit of measurements in a film is weighed out in shots, or clips. Cut from a slightly longer version to the finished product to yield around five to six seconds each, there are thousands of shots in every movie you view. Just as a minute is comprised of 60 seconds, the average time length for holding any single pose rarely lasts beyond this time frame. As we view a film the shots bounce round constantly from scene to scene so that we may experience the reactions of those around the camera from all angles, without actually being there. Being trained from infancy to accept this it seems slightly absurd to question the logic of the sequence or to break it down as such.

Hunger (2008 Steve McQueen) is comprised of three sections, the second of which is 20 minute medium shot which is played out straight through by main character’s Michael Fassbender and Rory Mullen. This kind of a shot was chosen artfully by director Steve McQueen to give you a taste of the solitude, the ambiance and the growing dramatic dialogue between these two at this time. The majority of clips aren’t shot past the 30 second mark, so for one 40 times this length is no small feat. The remaining few minutes of this section is shot in an eye-level close up, while Bobby Sands (Fassbender) recounts a relatable story from his childhood to the Priest (Mullen), to capture the intensity and reminiscence being conveyed.

This film is highly political, centered near Belfast in 81’s and documents the imprisonment of Irish republican prisoners as they make their way through the system. We are subject to the viewing of police in riot gear beating the absolute shit out of those in the institution, regular anal and oral checks, and the crafty ways inmates smuggle items in through different bodily orifices during visitation.

 On the flip side of that we also see a side of the war as viewed by the guards, one in particular named officer Raymond Lohan (played by Stuart Graham. We first meet him at home while dressing for his day at work. He wakes, has breakfast with his wife and checks his car for a bomb. Everything he does is in paled out colors and everywhere he goes is in silence when compared to the activity of the job and the outside world. His marriage suffers, he suffers, and everyone is suffering. There is no part of what he does that is allowed to stay at work without him.

Riddled with unabashed violence scattered all throughout, Hunger is not for the faint of heart.  The highlights being the director’s capacity to play up the acoustics from one scene to another and transition beautifully from sequence to sequence. This is a terrifyingly beautiful picture and never have I been more engrossed, turned off or disheartened while viewing something in my life. I would highly recommend it.

Unique twenty minute shot inside the prison walls.