Tright here is nice archival and historic curiosity to the 1987 function movie debut of writer-director Stephen Poliakoff, which now on re-release. It’s a peculiar, cerebral and infrequently unusually toothless thriller drama with some fairly picket appearing, but additionally some fascinating, secret London areas, used with aptitude. These embrace the Kingsway tram tunnel – gateway to a veritable catacomb of secret areas underneath the town – and the big Edmonton incinerator (now the Edmonton EcoPark). Hidden Metropolis presents factors of curiosity in its drama; mainly, the assertive and characteristically haughty efficiency from Charles Dance as an academic psychologist who stumbles on an occult conspiracy. Dance by the way has probably the most outrageously handbags-at-dawn struggle with Invoice Paterson (“Thoughts the go well with!”) – an un-macho showdown to be in contrast with Hugh Grant scrapping with Colin Firth in Bridget Jones’s Diary.
Dance performs James Richards, an educational who whereas exhibiting a movie to a category of schoolkids in a lecture theatre with video displays at each desk, is irritated to see the improper footage is being proven. In an imperious match of pique, he calls for that the archive fireplace whoever is accountable, who seems to be mouthy researcher Sharon (Cassie Stuart). She tracks Richards down and calls for that he assist her remedy a sinister puzzle: she has turned up surveillance footage of what seems to be a girl being kidnapped on the street by authorities brokers.
From this premise an extended, concerned and considerably somnolent story unwinds, on the sting of Orwellian paranoia however on the sting additionally of a fantasy world of near-nonsense. It’s clearly influenced by Antonioni’s Blow-Up, not merely within the sinister particulars semi-concealed within the footage, however using London parks and freaky events. Hidden Metropolis additionally recognisably comes from the identical world as Peter Greenaway and Dennis Potter – the form of uppermiddlebrow-concept Britfilm that in these days made the commercially minded Alan Parker growl with rage.
I’ve to confess that, from the primary second to the final, once we are presumably alleged to be on the sting of our seats because the conspiracy is disclosed, there may be for me at all times one thing barely unexciting about all of it. However Hidden Metropolis has a definite sense of humour, made with authorial confidence and magnificence.
