The Debt Collector: Film Review

A relic of the Channel 4 Films era, The Debt Collector is writer/director Anthony Neilson's first, and sadly, only film, and tells a rather cynical, bitter and gritty story inspired by everything from Jimmy Boyle to Macbeth, and focussing on the concept of nemesis, forgiveness and redemption.

In the 1970's, with Thin Lizzie playing quietly in the background, rookie undercover copper Gary Keltie (Ken Stott) finally manages to bring down Glaswegian enforcer Nicky Dryden (Billy Connolly) in the gangster's own Edinburgh haunt, earning himself hero status with a big future ahead.

Fast forward two decades. Dryden, rehabilitated and released, has developed a new career as a sculptour and artist, having discovered the trade while in prison. He is married to journalist Val (Francesca Annis), lives in a large house by the sea and is presenting art exhibitions at museums around the city as the festival prepares to start.

It's during one of his exhibitions chaired by Edinburgh's artistic royalty that Dryden's night is ruined by an unexpected guest: Keltie. Taking a switch knife to one of Dryden's sculptures and bluntly stating that his one time haul doesn't have everyone's forgiveness, the manic cop sparks off a personal battle between the two.

While Dryden has become stronger, richer and happier after incarceration, Keltie's life has stalled depressingly since the arrest. He lives with his elderly mother (Annette Crosbie) in a miserable council house, fights with his superior officers and cuts a lonely, angry figure in a police force that once saw him as a legend but now treat him as a laughing stock.

On top of the harrasment he suffers at the hands of Keltie, Dryden also is forced to deal with his past misdemeanours and career, as well as the overtures of a psychotic young hood, Flipper (Iain Robertson), who has become enamoured with him. But while initially being irritated and distracted by those trapsing into his life, Dryden's life is turned upside down when Keltie ruins a wedding within his newly adopted family by bringing a van full of the former hard man's victim's to the service. As each swing of revenge becomes more feral and desperate, the pair move from battling to warring, threatening those around them in a pained, hopeless fight that loses it's meaning in violence and savagery.

Played out almost like a stage play, Neilson's story establishes a firm battle between the ferocious, vengeful and seedy Keltie and the regretful, baffled and restrained Dryden. Each turn of the screw ups the ante, culminating in personal loss and blurred lines in both Keltie's mission and Dryden's attempts at self defence. It moves and feels like a classic tragedy, with two deeply flawed men caught in a mostly needless and unwinable scrap caused more by bitterness than righteousness, more jealous hurt than moral crusading. This leaves the stage free for Connolly, fresh off the back of his superlative performance in Mrs Brown, and Stott to channel all manner of ugly energies and honest human traits in a film that constantly threatens to be a psychological thriller.

The two do not disappoint. Connolly's hard checked personality and approach perfectly portrays a man desperate to remain composed, years in prison and the promise of a second chance at life stalling his violent tendencies and mortal resolutions in a wonderfuly subdued, subtle performance. Stott goes down the other road, a hard boiled ebbing and flowing man pushed on by bitter hatred of the world, of the unfairness of his existence and the indignity he feels at Dryden's new found happiness. Only his dottery mother (superbly played by Annette Crosbie, often ignored as a dramatic actress since One Foot in the Grave) is spared the walking, burnt out fury. Stott throws his all in, giving his finest performance and delivering virtuoso turns. Both men's world weariness is encapsulated, making the final confrontation almost despairingly pointless.

The script really works wonders, Neilson's best contribution. Using minimalistic means to control the plot, with a sparse use of action and unlikely set pieces, the movement of the story feels natural and entirely plausible, while giving almost every character some form of moral conundrum or internal splits. A very grim mood fills the tale, even beyond the duel taking place in it's centre, creating a melancholy which makes the blood hatred perversely apt.

A quiet but high calibre character piece which forgoes extravagant leaps in an attempt at false thrills, The Debt Collector is a human drama of very good quality which supplies material in full to two leads on top of their game, creating a memorable but dark performance art.

8/10