Cinema Shows Week 11: Bronson, 18th March 2009, Cinema De Lux, Leicester

  • British Fictional Feature Films (Released in 2009) Watched in the Cinema  in 2009- 7
  • Ticket Outlay £25.47.5  (on British feature films released in 2009)
  • There are many times that I will find myself in the cinema between 5 and 6 to watch a film straight after work. This is convenient for not getting home too late. The downside of this is that most screenings at this time are not popular. This means spending quite a lot of time in quite large, empty theatres. It can seem a bit sad and feel like an experience on the way out. How long can such a poorly attended ‘mass medium’ continue in this format?

    Popped along to the CDL in Leicester to watch Bronson. I was looking forward to this one and wasn’t disappointed. Hard to figure the audience though. About 10 people. A couple of young couples on the back rows, a group of 4 older adults who wandered in just as it started – were they in the right film? But then, what is Bronson‘s audience?

    bronson_ticket

    The film adds to a growing mediated campaign to ‘Free Charlie Bronson’, and develops the myth of how the ‘innocence’ of Michael Peterson grew into the ‘experience’ of being ‘Charlie Bronson, Peterson’s ‘fighting name’. We are in British cinema’s mainstream realism-tinsel dualism with a real life story framed through Bronson’s theatrical monologue. Bronson’s perpetual incarceration (currently in Wakefield Prison) and ‘bad boy’ antics are entertainingly interpreted as performance art. Bronson presents not just a ‘con-artist’ (a prisoner who draws and paints), but a conceptual artist whose life’s work is a performance produced in the clash between fathomable injustice and unfathomable violence, enforced regulation and the unchecked human spirit.

    Baby Peterson

    Baby Peterson

     

    The Artist Formerly Known as Peterson

    The Artist Formerly Known as Peterson

    TYGER, tyger, burning bright

    In the forests of the night,  

    What immortal hand or eye  

    Could frame thy fearful symmetry?  

    In what distant deeps or skies         

    Burnt the fire of thine eyes?  

    On what wings dare he aspire?  

    What the hand dare seize the fire?  

    And what shoulder and what art  

    Could twist the sinews of thy heart?  

    And when thy heart began to beat,  

    What dread hand and what dread feet?  

    What the hammer? What the chain?  

    In what furnace was thy brain?  

    What the anvil? What dread grasp  

    Dare its deadly terrors clasp?  

    When the stars threw down their spears,  

    And water’d heaven with their tears,  

    Did He smile His work to see?  

    Did He who made the lamb make thee? 

    Tyger, tyger, burning bright  

    In the forests of the night,  

    What immortal hand or eye  

    Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

    (‘The Tyger’, William Blake, 1794)

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