Image copyright © by Marcus Trahan

I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead

(UK, USA, 2003)

SPOILER WARNING. Clive Owen was a feared member of the London underworld, but gave it all up several years ago and lives a simple life now. But his younger brother is found dead in his bathtub, his throat slit, an apparent suicide. Clive returns to the big city to find out why. We already know why, because we have seen him held down by two thugs and brutally raped by Malcolm McDowell. Clive eventually figures it out, but meanwhile his reappearance has made another underworld boss nervous, and the boss orders that Clive be rubbed out. To that end, his girlfriend is captured and held, setting a trap for him. He invades McDowell’s house, kills his guard dog, and demands the story of why his little bro was raped. Basically, because he was handsome, and self-assured, and got all the girls, and McD just hated him for that. Clive decides he has had enough of killing and walks away. Then he turns back and shoots McD in the head. And there the story stops.

I can deal with a story where there’s some unfinished business, if there’s a good reason for it. I couldn’t discern one here. It just fucking stops. He drives off in his car: Roll credits. This feels like a cheat to me. I was enjoying the film, and then it just insulted me. Screw this.