Review: Journeyman

Journeyman (15)

UK 2018  92 mins  Dir: Paddy Considine Cast: Paddy Considine, Jodie Whittaker, Anthony Welsh

Some debates are baffling to outsiders. To prevent US school shootings, surely it might help if citizens stopped arming themselves to the teeth? And if boxing can result in brain damage, maybe it would be a good idea to stop walloping one another about the head? Paddy Considine’s second film as director after the bleak Tyrannosaur deals powerfully with the aftermath but declines to address the cause. Indeed, its damaged protagonist even gets a little speech about how he refuses to blame the sport for his predicament. This might be good enough for a boxing enthusiast like the writer/director, but may prove to be an insurmountable challenge for those struggling to summon up any sympathy for his character.

The son of a boxing legend, world middleweight boxing champion Matty Burton (Considine) is enjoying the spoils of his success. He lives in a sleek modernist home with his lovely wife, Doctor Who (Jodie Whittaker, for it is she), and the couple dote on their infant daughter. But in order to retain his title and carry on bringing home the bacon, Matty needs to pop out and thump someone occasionally. Now it’s time for this aging pugilist’s swansong, the final challenger being cocky Andre ‘The Future’ Bryte (Welsh). During that funny nose-to-nose starey thing that boxers do prior to a fight, when one half expects them to start snogging, Mr. Bryte Future repeats his assertion that – foreshadowing alert! – “it’s going to be a life-changer for you!” It certainly proves to be a tough fight, which his wife cannot bear to watch, and Matty emerges bloodied but victorious on points. When he gets home, however, he collapses and is rushed to hospital.

The ensuing drama centres on Matty’s slow recovery from a brain injury whose nature is never disclosed, during which his previously close-knit team evaporate and his missus is left to deal with the needs of her hubby and baby, which prove to be much the same. The performances cannot be faulted. Matty’s descent into a shuffling, slurring shadow of his former self, prone to mood swings and violent rages, is convincingly played by Considine, and there’s a heartbreaking moment when he points at the couple’s child and asks simply, “What’s that?” Jodie Whittaker is equally impressive as the spouse who not only has to become a full-time carer but also finds herself avoided by her broken hubby’s embarrassed former mates. It’s just a shame the script has her disappearing from the screen for a long section of the film.

Considine directs the fight scenes briskly in familiar style, with bodily fluids (blood, sweat, spittle) flying all over the shop in slo-mo. But he also contrives an all-too-neat happy ending, as his script ducks, dives and feints to avoid suggesting that the sport bears any culpability for Matty’s condition.