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UK 1998
Reviewed by Philip Kemp
Our synopses give away the plot in full, including surprise twists.
The Yorkshire moors, the present. Ray, a 52-year-old unemployed labourer and keen amateur rock climber, is offered an unofficial, cash-in-hand job by Derek (who works for the local electricity company) to paint 15 miles of pylons in three months. With the help of his young lodger and fellow-climber Steve, Ray recruits a gang of painters: Bob, Frank, Weasel and Shovel. On the moors they meet Gerry, a young Australian woman, who's backpacking around the world. Despite Ray's misgivings, he lets her join the workgang. She proves to be an adept climber and worker and is accepted by the others.
After a tough day Ray, who's separated from his wife Lyn, invites Gerry back for a shower. They become lovers, and go climbing together. Ray asks Gerry to marry him. Steve, embarrassed and jealous, moves back home, but the rest of the gang celebrate the engagement by painting a pylon pink overnight. Bad weather hampers the work. Frank, oldest of the gang, cracks under the pace. Gerry, smothered by Ray's affection, breaks the engagement and moves out. She goes to Steve and they have sex, but he rejects her. Climbing without equipment, she falls and injures herself. The power in the lines is turned on ahead of time; Shovel narrowly escapes death. Visiting Gerry in hospital, Ray accepts they have no future together; once recovered, she travels on. Steve realises his dream of going to India.
"Don't go enjoying yourself," warns a character in Among Giants, "you'll only worry about it in years to come." There's a strong element of dour Yorkshire puritanism in Simon Beaufoy's script. Pleasure, sooner or later, has to be paid for in mental if not physical anguish, and nothing good lasts. Even Gerry, the happy-go-lucky Aussie backpacker, is infected by this Calvinist miasma. To punish herself for her infidelity to Ray she goes climbing solo and unroped, courting the inevitable disaster. Unlike Beaufoy's acclaimed script for The Full Monty (written later, though filmed earlier), there's no final freeze-frame triumph here, just a melancholy dying fall on the autumnal moors.
Still, it's not all unrelieved gloom. Moments of joy, if transient, are infectious and genuine: a rowdy line-dance in a pub (throughout the film, the bitter-sweet tones of Country and Western pervade the soundtrack); a boozy evening under the stars when a truck-driver mate shows up with a tankerload of whisky; Ray and Gerry stripping off for an impromptu shower in a disused cooling-tower. Above all, there's the heady exhilaration of high places, whether rock peaks or pylons. Making his feature debut as director, Sam Miller sheds the twitchy camera moves and relentless close-ups that characterised his work on the television series This Life. Instead we get long, lyrical swoops along lines of pylons as they stride across the landscape.
Pete Postlethwaite, an unconventional but affecting choice as romantic lead, expresses all the wary delight of a man finding love long after he's ceased looking for it. He's well matched by Rachel Griffiths' quizzical, androgynous charm; their initial love scenes together feel convincingly tentative, neither one quite sure what they're getting into. As the third point of the triangle, James Thornton (from Jimmy McGovern's television-drama series The Lakes) makes what he can of an underwritten role.
Among Giants is let down by the predictability of its storyline, and by a reluctance to confront the full dramatic consequences of its events. The antagonism between the devious Derek and the painters he's exploiting never comes to a head, and the rancour between Ray and his estranged wife is simply presented as a given, not fully explored. More than once we seem to be heading for a tragic catharsis: when the elderly Frank collapses under the pressure, when the gentle black worker Shovel is trapped on an unexpectedly repowered pylon, and when Gerry takes her quasi-suicidal fall. Each time the film sidesteps any disastrous outcome. It's as if the affection Beaufoy feels for his up-against-it working-class characters (a sentiment also evident in The Full Monty) makes him over-protective, reluctant to let anything really bad happen to them. If so, it does his heart credit, but it crucially weakens the impact of the film.