By the end of these Irvine Welsh-penned tales of Scottish woe, we finally get to see more of Scotland than drunken football yobs beating the crap out of each other in the slums. That’s because one of the yobs unexpectedly finds himself in the upscale apartment of a couple who believe they’re his parents. Until that point, this movie is a rough, troubling ride, yet well worth your time and energy to seek out.
The Acid House’s three stories commence with the least hopeful, most acidic tale of Boab, an unmotivated footballer who has been booted from his team. His mates believe in The Granton Star Cause, he thinks it’s just a kickabout, and out on his ear he goes. Soon, his parents force him to move out, and things just get worse from there. That is, until a mysterious stranger at the pub lets Boab in on the secrets of his life that Boab was previously too lackadaisical to notice. Presently, things get really messy and disgusting, before crashing into a wall of despair.
Next up is a squalid tale drawn with frightening, degenerate characters, which leaves the viewer with a dubious pinprick of hope, telling us that, ‘you might as well go home again.’ Our hero, Johnny, allows himself to be walked on by everyone in his life, including his wretched hag of a new wife. When a violent, psychotic stranger moves into the slum, and in on Johnny’s wife, we begin to hope Johnny will make a stand, but has he got the strength?
Humour of a less desperate, yet exceedingly weird type emerges in the final tale, The Acid House. It starts with a surrealistic acid trip experienced by Coco, yet another dangerous hooligan with a patient, sweet-hearted girlfriend. Coco, a lightening storm and a well-to-do couple on their way to the maternity ward combine to create the funniest, most hopeful, yet creepiest tale of the group.
The Acid House overflows with the incomprehensible accents of working class Scots. Thankfully, it’s subtitled, so the rest of the world can enjoy Welsh’s frightening, furious take on life for the average disenfranchised bloke in Scotland. Director Paul McGuigan infuses the whole affair with frantic, unstable energy, stretching out to the limits during Coco’s acid trip. He captures with passionate intensity the heart-rending squalor of the slums.
Performances across the board are realistic and believable. Though you’ll likely be frightened and repulsed by the chaotic characters, they all flaunt that kernel of humanity and vulnerability that distinguishes them from cartoon goons with nothing but drunken destruction on their minds – not that they have much more than that going on, but at least you can tell there’s something underneath.
If you crave a disturbing, audacious treat, a glimpse into a world both violent and desperate for redemption, The Acid House will send you on quite a ride.
