Film set visit: ’Bronson‘

David Jenkins braves blood and bare-knuckle brawls on the set of ’Bronson‘, a new film about a British jailbird

Back in 1974, a hot-headed, 19-year-old rapscallion named Michael Gordon Peterson decided he wanted out of the punchclock drudgery of civilised society. With a homemade sawn-off shotgun and a head full of dreams, he attempted to rob a post office in Luton. Swiftly apprehended, he was sentenced to seven years.

Since this boyhood indiscretion, Peterson has spent a total of 131 days as a free man. In large part, this is due to a penchant for taking guards hostage, assaulting both wardens and other inmates and conducting violent rooftop protests, all of which go some way to account for the remaining 34 years that he has spent at Her Majesty’s pleasure. During a rare stint on the outside in 1988, Peterson became a prizefighter of considerable repute, which led to the decision to adopt the more menacing tag of Charles Bronson. In the newspapers, though, he was known by another handle: the most violent prisoner in Britain.

‘ ’Ave some of that you fackin’ slaaaag!’ It’s a line repeated in various guises on my visit to the set of ‘Bronson’, the forthcoming true-crime biopic of the aforementioned moustachioed jailbird and tabloid folk devil. Directed by an immensely talented Dane, Nicolas Winding Refn – no stranger to the criminal milieu on the evidence of his superb ‘Pusher’ trilogy – the film takes a sideways glance at a ‘monster’ whose aggressive, often counter-intuitive exploits highlight paradoxes in the penal system (not to mention in the field of mental health) as well as presenting a charismatic, vicious rogue who, to this day, playfully escapes easy appraisal from behind his cell door. He has, however, been pivotal in the script’s development, and has worked closely with writers and producers to make sure that the most salient (and brutal) details of his life make it to the screen intact.

The role of Bronson (or ‘Charlie’ as he is affectionately referred to on set) has been pounced on with gusto by 30-year-old Brit whippersnapper Tom Hardy. As we wait in the cold to enter the closed set (a dank rifle range on a country estate in Worksop), he bursts through the rickety door, topless, skinheaded and with flecks of blood across his jowl. He looks terrifying. The scene being filmed is a bare-knuckled brawl which has been choreographed by Julian Spencer, the man who gave us that ultra-visceral nude tussle in Cronenberg’s ‘Eastern Promises’.

Silhouetted onlookers stand motionless in the background as Hardy knocks ten bells out of two opponents.

‘I always like a challenge,’ he says rubbing his hands together. ‘I like character work, a transformation where you get to change everything: face, shape, accent and daily routine.’ From the few snaps available on the internet of the real Bronson, he looks the part.

Hardy explains his research. ‘I speak to Charlie lots on the phone and I’ve visited him a few times. At the start, I was really nervous about getting involved with him.’

So, what’s he like? ‘He’s lovely. When I go into prison, he’ll feel my muscles and say, “Gawd, look at you Tom! You look fackin’ magic! You want another cup of tea? How’s your mum?” It’s difficult as he has the potential to be a very dangerous man and at the same time he can be sensitive, creative and generous.’

Hardy says that getting both sides of that persona without riling Charlie or the tabloids is like walking a tightrope.

‘I think it’s important when you’re playing or writing a character not to judge them. You find something you love about them and play them like that. However, I don’t want it to feel like an appreciation society. I don’t want to be a puppet for Charlie.’

As a director, Winding Refn is hands-on – tactile even. He takes the actors under the arms of his billowy red fleece, whispering in their ear as he preps them for the scene and exudes a satisfying air of control. He turns back towards the camera and yells his directorial rallying cry of ‘OK guys, lets fuck!’ Very Danish.

‘The shoot is going very well,’ he assures me. ‘It’s always interesting to work with budgets that force you to think creatively.’ Judged against the diamond-hard realism of his ‘Pusher’ films, ‘Bronson’ seems more conceptual than usual. ‘I think what drew me to the script was that here was a film about a person who, essentially, didn’t want to get out of prison,’ he explains. ‘I think Charlie is a complex character and I think that he has gone through many phases. I want my film to be more about the idea of Charles Bronson: the creation, the myth, the public figure, the media whipping boy. That fascinates me.’

On the evidence of the script and the patter of its director and leading man, there is reason to believe that ‘Bronson’ will have more in common with the likes of ‘A Clockwork Orange’ and Andrew Dominik’s excellent ‘Chopper’ than it does the reactionary hard-nut drivel of Julian Gibney (‘Rise of the Footsoldier’) or the mockney pratfalls of Guy Ritchie.

Winding Refn said that he watched ‘Night of the Hunter’ and ‘Scorpio Rising’ in preparation. Hardy took the opportunity to immerse himself in his character and intends to cut through the carnage with compassion: ‘This is a man who has been in solitary for 30 years, so the fact that someone is making a film of his life must mean an incredible amount to him. In one way, when you make a movie about someone like Charlie, you don’t want to compact the trouble that he’s in. I’m not making this movie to make myself look good. If it goes out and makes him look like a fucking monster, then I’ve failed to do my job. The person that I’ve met is not a monster.’

‘Bronson’ is currently in production and will be released early next year.