All or Nothing (2002)

No one captures the human condition quite like Mike Leigh – regardless of whether we’re looking at his days as one of the pioneers of the “angry young men” movement that branched off from kitchen-sink realism, or his ascent to become one of the elder statesmen of British cinema, there has always been a fiery passion simmering beneath his work, which have resulted in some of the most incredibly potent films of their era, whether outrageous comedy or heartwrenching drama. He has never been one necessarily against the idea of tackling more downbeat subject matter, since Leigh has always found a way to be creative with even the most depressing topics. All or Nothing is certainly one of his most difficult films, both in terms of the subjects that form the foundation of the story, and the specific methods employed to explore their lives. Deeply unsettling and incredibly complex, the story of a group of working-class individuals making a living in London is not an easy film, but rather one that emerges as one of the director’s more understated efforts, a simple but evocative drama about the daily routines of people who are rarely given the time to have their stories told. Leigh has long been a champion for the underdog, and the vast majority of his stories look at those who are often marginalized or reviled for their place in society – and with All or Nothing, the director is offering the viewer the chance to experience this harrowing journey through the backroads of London, where we encounter a range of characters, each one fighting their own individual battle that comes to form the foundation of this striking and heartbreaking drama about finding oneself in a hostile environment, as well the fragile nature of existence, which is much more complex than it would seem at first.

All or Nothing contains many of Leigh’s most distinct qualities as a filmmaker, which make it very much aligned with nearly everything else he had made up until this point. One of the subjects that has always interested him as an artist is the theme of the working class. Rather than being one of the many filmmakers that takes an almost exploitative approach to exploring the lives of ordinary people aiming to simply make a living, Leigh draws on his own background, constructing a memorable narrative around the intersecting lives of a group of people living in a squalid council estate, which is taken from his own early life as the child of working-class parents, as well as his journeys through London (and Great Britain as a whole), which has always yielded strong results in the director’s keen interest in looking at the experiences of those who live on the proverbial “other sides of the tracks”. When watching a Leigh film, even the most seasoned viewer is often found to be in a state of profound unease, mainly because (with the exception of the few straightforward comedies that are littered throughout his career, such as Life is Sweet and Happy-Go-Lucky), the majority of what Leigh is doing is extracting the most uncomfortable and disconcerting scenarios from reality, and assimilating them into his stories, which often don’t follow a very particular narrative structure, but are rather guided by the director’s proclivity for allowing these stories to unfold organically, almost as if they were factual works in their own right. A director-driven primarily by a combination of storied wisdom and perpetual curiosity, every frame of Leigh’s work feels handcrafted by someone with a genuine interest in the subject matter, which makes for a truly enthralling and captivating drama.

All or Nothing is an exceptionally challenging film, which we can tell from the first moments – there is very little joy in this film (but it is not entirely devoid of it either – the brief moments of levity are coveted gems in this relatively dour and downbeat social drama). However, we are rarely in a position where we feel repulsed or unsettled to the point where the film becomes unbearable – if anything, Leigh makes exceptional use of his penchant for unconventional humour to ease us into this world, utilizing brief smatterings of levity for the sake of establishing the environment, one that may be populated by suffering, but is not entirely lacking in terms of warmth. It creates a very hypnotic environment, which contributes to the frequent oscillations between heartwrenching pathos and outright tragedy, both of which are vital to the progression of this story. We can easily get lost in Leigh’s version of London (much of which comes on behalf of two of his regular collaborators, composer Andrew Dickson and cinematographer Dick Pope, both artists’ work immersing us deep within Leigh’s vision to the point where the film feels akin to being lost in a dreamlike state), and we weave through the lives of these characters as they go about their daily affairs, each detail of their routine become exceptionally clear to us, leading to a few plot-based decisions that may be jarring, but make sense when taken alongside Leigh’s directorial vision, which is guided by nothing but capturing a particular mood, drawn from the working-class malaise that has so frequently formed the basis for the director’s work.

It is well-documented that Leigh develops his films alongside his actors, making them some of the strongest collaborations we’ve seen in recent decades. Mostly constructed from loose narrative cues, which are then formed into fully-formed stories through a laborious process of improvisation and rehearsals, these films are as much attributed to Leigh as they are to his repertory cast of actors, most of whom he works with regularly. All or Nothing is surprisingly one of his most ensemble-based films, not having a clearly-defined lead, but rather spreading the attention across multiple actors. The most distinct point-of-view comes from Timothy Spall, who gives possibly his finest performance to date (perhaps only rivalled by another Leigh-directed vehicle in the form of Mr Turner), playing the conflicted taxi driver who is trying to make a good life for his family, but constantly finds himself teetering close to a nervous breakdown, which is explored thoroughly throughout the film. He is paired with the always brilliant Lesley Manville, who plays his equally conflicted wife who works hard to make their squalid flat feel like a home, which causes her to become the victim of every other character’s ire. The film is populated by a blend of veterans and newcomers, all of which are woven beautifully into the fabric of the film, so much that it is impossible to choose a standout other than the two central characters – Ruth Sheen, James Corden, Marion Bailey and Sally Hawkins are all remarkable, and make up the unforgettable constellation of hardworking actors that commit wholeheartedly to this beautiful film.

All or Nothing doesn’t technically seem like much when we look at it from a distance – it is essentially a meandering story about a group of people who are bitter towards the hand they had been dealt, feeling nothing but anger towards their position in life. Kitchen-sink realism is very compelling, but it can be predictable, so part of the joy of watching a film like this is seeing how Leigh and the actors work to add meaning to what is essentially a film without any overarching narrative (there are character arcs and a sufficient amount of storyline, but it really is very little more than a series of existential tableaux), which is part of what makes it such an effective work. The intricate details are what propel the film forward and make it such a wonderfully layered work – we can’t ever really tell where it is heading, and a lot of what makes it memorable are concealed in the small, almost insignificant secrets that are gradually revealed. Leigh’s work is always consistently good, and his blend of admiration for the working-class, and his apoplectic rage towards the social structures that have placed decent individuals in such difficult positions makes for a suitably fascinating drama that touches on broad issues that may be overwhelming for those who aren’t anticipating the barrage of scathing comments that punctuate nearly every moment of this film – but ultimately, what is a Mike Leigh film without a few well-placed moments of pure sound and fury towards post-Thatcherism? Not for the faint of heart, since it is extraordinarily bleak (perhaps more than any of his other work), but filled with incredible complexity, All or Nothing is a true triumph in every way, and further proof towards Leigh’s genius ability to tell stories that are both beautiful and provocative in their own way.

Leave a comment