This is one of the most depressing, cynical and downright prejudiced films it has ever been my misfortune to sit through. While the intentions of Amma Asante to depict a true-to-life gritty slice of working class Welsh life may have been admirable, the clumsy way she goes about executing her project made me doubt her own belief in her work. While appalling racism and poverty may indeed be an element of modern urban Wales (and indeed the rest of the world), I was utterly unmoved by the apparent ubiquitousness of these horrendous beliefs within almost EVERY character in this messy pseudo-drama. My own experiences with people in similar (and worse) situations made me angry at the short-sightedness of this thoroughly middle class generalising.
While I am positive I was supposed to sympathise with the reprehensible lead character, I found her negligence as a mother, her cruelty and manipulation of her family and friends, and her hateful nature utterly disgusting, and cheered when her baby was taken from her, as she clearly was no kind of mother. I KNOW this kind of thing happens in real life, but in real life people SMILE, people GET ON WITH IT, people try to MAKE THE BEST OF THEIR SITUATIONS. I cannot sympathise if a baby is taken away from a mother that allows her to scorch her arms with candles, and happily abandons her child in order to have sex on a whim.
The message I felt this film delivered, was that poverty was a situation in which nobody could be human. The middle classes (represented by Brenda Blethyn) are celebrated as if they have some sort of enlightened outlook, completely non-racist and unprejudiced in their suburban Utopia. I think many people would agree this is a distance from the truth.
Violent, gratuitous, unbelievable, unpleasant and an insult to working class life, this film works only to cement the vastly misguided belief that the working classes and people on benefits constitute some kind of inhuman subculture. I would never deny that their are grains of fact which surface in this movie, but its refusal to acknowledge that those at the bottom might have something worth living for (other than making the life of a child an utterly miserable one) is something I cannot accept.
All good points in this film (the occasionally inspiring cinematography, and a smattering of interesting performances), were swept aside by the avalanche of pessimism which Asante obviously feels audiences need. Ken Loach and Mike Leigh get it right. Take Raining Stones, remove all humour, humanity and respect for others, and you'll approach the dross of A Way of Life.
While I am positive I was supposed to sympathise with the reprehensible lead character, I found her negligence as a mother, her cruelty and manipulation of her family and friends, and her hateful nature utterly disgusting, and cheered when her baby was taken from her, as she clearly was no kind of mother. I KNOW this kind of thing happens in real life, but in real life people SMILE, people GET ON WITH IT, people try to MAKE THE BEST OF THEIR SITUATIONS. I cannot sympathise if a baby is taken away from a mother that allows her to scorch her arms with candles, and happily abandons her child in order to have sex on a whim.
The message I felt this film delivered, was that poverty was a situation in which nobody could be human. The middle classes (represented by Brenda Blethyn) are celebrated as if they have some sort of enlightened outlook, completely non-racist and unprejudiced in their suburban Utopia. I think many people would agree this is a distance from the truth.
Violent, gratuitous, unbelievable, unpleasant and an insult to working class life, this film works only to cement the vastly misguided belief that the working classes and people on benefits constitute some kind of inhuman subculture. I would never deny that their are grains of fact which surface in this movie, but its refusal to acknowledge that those at the bottom might have something worth living for (other than making the life of a child an utterly miserable one) is something I cannot accept.
All good points in this film (the occasionally inspiring cinematography, and a smattering of interesting performances), were swept aside by the avalanche of pessimism which Asante obviously feels audiences need. Ken Loach and Mike Leigh get it right. Take Raining Stones, remove all humour, humanity and respect for others, and you'll approach the dross of A Way of Life.