28.03.1996

Stomach-churningly frank

Paul Greenaway reviews 'Trainspotting', directed by Danny Boyle (1995, general release)

There can hardly be a person in the country who has not heard of Trainspotting, the controversial new film based upon the best-selling novel by Irvine Welsh. The film’s vivid, if not vicarious, portrayal of the Edinburgh drugs scene has generated much fuss, with some commentators objecting to its non-judgmental stance. Alternatively, the fans of Trainspotting are evangelical in their devotion. Either way, we are almost certainly witnessing the birth of a ‘cult’ movie, albeit one with major box office success.

Is this all a fuss about nothing? No. I would argue that this is an important film, which everybody should make an effort to see. Few and far between are films which honestly depict the lives of working class people in their own environment.

The director, Danny Boyle, perfectly captures the essence, the truth if you like, of the reality experienced by the various characters. This is managed by a very skilful combination of nitty-gritty realism, frenetic black humour and, in some places, surreal sequences, which all help to give us an insight into the world of drug addiction.

Trainspotting is a technical masterpiece, demonstrating the vitality of the cinematic art form. The explosive beginning is exemplary and exciting. As Iggy Pop blasts out Lust for life, we see the main characters, Spud and Renton, charging down the high street, being pursued by store detectives. Straight from the opening shot we empathise with them and will them to escape. This instant empathy technique is a constant feature of the film, never allowing us to develop a distance from the characters - even when things get harrowing, if not nauseating on occasions.

The film is stuffed with all manner of idiosyncratic details and incidents, which enable us to glimpse the humanity trapped within the protagonists. Sick-Boy has an obsession with Sean Connery and never misses an opportunity to ‘impress’ any innocent bystander with his near encyclopaedic knowledge. The death of his baby is particularly distressing for the viewer.

Trainspotting never sneers at the unfortunates portrayed, nor does it ever indulge in gratuitous gross-outs, which must be a constant temptation for the director, given the subject matter. There is never any hint of voyeurism, but Danny Boyle manages to present us with an extremely realistic, bordering on the stomach-churningly frank, picture of down and out Edinburgh. Yet the film never loses its basic warmth and compassion. This alone deserves praise.

Other films dealing with drug addiction have tended to dehumanise the addicts. Some have even trivialised the matter, presenting it purely as a lifestyle choice. Trainspotting does neither; it is not an advert for the counter-culture, nor does mainstream culture get let off the hook. For instance, Renton (superbly played by Ewan McGregor) is “almost happy” when he becomes a Yuppie-type estate agent during the housing boom, conning the gullible into buying insanely overpriced properties in London.

Trainspotting reminds us that human beings, under certain material circumstances,become drug addicts - Renton, Spud, Tommy, Sick-Boy and the rest were not predestined to become ‘no-hopers’. Having said that, the film has a surprisingly up-beat and optimistic ending.

Paul Greenaway