UK Edition
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Screenwriter: Gerald McMorrow
Starring: Ryan Phillippe, Eva Green, Sam Riley, Bernard Hill
Running Time: 97 mins
Certificate: 15
Franklyn, the first film from British writer/director Gerald McMorrow, is a sprawling science fiction fantasy that muddies the line between the imagined and real. Looking fairly epic on a shoestring budget, Franklyn has grand ambitions but ends up cramming in more ideas than it can handle. McMorrow attacks the story with vigour, as if he may never get the chance to make a film again, and as a consequence the final product is confused and spilling over with unrefined thoughts.
In the futuristic urban sprawl of Meanwhile City, detective John Preest (Phillippe) stalks the streets in a white mask and trench coat. The metropolis is ruled by a host of obscure religions (some take instruction manuals as their bibles), with Preest the only godless man in town. His story is set in motion when he's tasked with killing the Individual, the leader of a rogue cult. The overlapping narratives swing between there and modern-day London, where barking-mad Emilia (Green) attempts suicide in the name of art, the romantic Milo (Riley) recovers from an altar jilt by reconnecting with his childhood sweetheart Sally (also Green) and Esser (Hill) searches for his missing son David, institutionalised after a stint in the army.
Franklyn is monumentally absurd and unintentionally camp, but at least it has the benefit of looking nice even if the surface sheen is cribbed from other sci-fi fare. Meanwhile is a vast expanse of concrete exploding skyward, like Hell erupting on Earth - a sight familiar to those who have seen Gilliam's Brazil and the underrated Dark City. A sombre mood and dark atmosphere, though, is not enough to carry it past the finish line. McMorrow's cast is a mixed bag - Riley, excellent as Ian Curtis in Control a couple of years back, proves he has the chops to be a leading man, while Green portrays a manic artist (making Tracey Emin look sane) with some delight. Ryan Phillippe never quite convinces as a tough vigilante (he's better keeping the mask on).
Over the course of the film the four stories begin to intertwine and Meanwhile's characters cross over into the real world. McMorrow clearly feels his movie should have something important to say and makes comment on religious dogmatism, the traumas of war, love and destiny. At 97 minutes, these topics don't have enough breathing space to be fully explored - and when it quickly emerges that several characters are not of sound mind, figuring out the story's mysteries becomes a fait accompli.
There's something worthwhile buried inside Franklyn's concept. Its frailty may be down to the medium it finds itself in and inexperience on the part of the director. McMorrow is a fan of graphic novels, as suggested by Preest’s similarity to Watchmen's Rorschach, and that may have been a better avenue to deliver the story. The illustrated page or a TV series would have afforded more time to explore complex states of mind and the moody backstreets of Meanwhile City. As it is, the attempts to compress so many themes into such a short space of time end up making Franklyn seem like it's leapt from the imagination of Garth Marenghi. Ultimately, McMorrow's over-ambitious debut is a beautiful mess.
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