By Tricia Olszewski
The debut effort of director John Crowley and writer Mark O’Rowe, Intermission is that rare achievement of the post–Pulp Fiction age: a movie that’s equal parts quirkiness and grit without feeling blatantly derivative.
Set in contemporary Ireland, Intermission closely resembles another of that country’s recent exports, Elizabeth Gill’s Goldfish Memory. Both use an ensemble cast and intersecting story lines to muse about modern love and human connections in general. Among Intermission’s dozen main characters are John (Cillian Murphy), a grocery-store employee who broke up with his girlfriend, Deirdre (Kelly Macdonald), to “test” her; John’s best friend, Oscar (David Wilmot), who’s desperately seeking companionship; Noeleen (Deirdre O’Kane), a wife who’s left brokenhearted and confused when her husband, Sam (Michael McElhatton), suddenly moves in with Deirdre; Deirdre’s mustachioed sister, Sally (Shirley Henderson), who’s withdrawn herself from the world since a relationship went south; and Jerry (Colm Meaney), a renegade cop bloated with notions of his own toughness.
Oh yeah: Colin Farrell’s in it, too, though the actor’s ability to play well with others is as surprising as his character’s absolute refusal to. Farrell’s Lehiff, a petty criminal full of smartass swagger, fades into the background after Intermission’s opening scene, in which an apparent come-on abruptly turns violent. Indeed, Farrell’s luxuriating in his full-on (and nearly indecipherable) Irishness is enough to convince you that he’s just another of the film’s lesser-knowns.
Though mostly lighthearted in tone, dominated by O’Rowe’s witty dialogue and running gags, Intermission has a way of suddenly shifting: A montage cutting between Noeleen looking at an empty closet, John finding a bra in his couch, and Oscar jerking off to porn captures the loneliness of the characters with unexpected punch, and random acts of violence, mostly courtesy of a young rock-throwing hellion (Taylor Molloy), disrupt the action whenever things get too cozy.
Rather than making Intermission a schizophrenic mess, however, its mood swings seem to reflect the humanity of its fully realized characters. The most enjoyable ones are the most melancholy, such as Noeleen, who seeks out a “pick-me-up” affair and then realizes that the anger she’s unleashing in increasingly violent lovemaking sessions would be better directed toward her no-good husband, and Sally, who’s both the movie’s moral mouthpiece and a heartbreaking example of how bitterness can wither a person.
Crowley’s jittery camera is a less effective attempt to keep things real, and certain plot lines do trudge toward predictable conclusions. But not pat ones: Just when Jerry, whose confidence is briefly tested in a standoff with Lehiff, is shown insufferably telling himself that he “has the power!,” Intermission’s swift and satisfying conclusion knocks his world off-kilter again. In fact, no one here ends up in an unquestionably happily-ever-after situation: Each resolution comes with an asterisk—which isn’t how it should be, but how it is.