Be Good Or Be Gone

The premise of a man leaving jail and returning home, only to be beset by problems is a well-worn one and perhaps that's why Cathal Nally struggled to get funding and had to self-finance his feature debut. It was certainly worth the effort as the end result has a pleasing freshness and offers a winning mix of grit, heart and charm.

Ste (Les Martin) is the man in question, freed for four days parole in Dublin with his cousin Weed (Declan Mills) - theirs is a world where everything, including life, can be abruptly abbreviated, no wonder nobody has time for two-syllable names. Ste, who has a girlfriend, Dee (Jenny-Lee Masterson) and young daughter Ellie Mae - the very length of whose name suggests hope - on the outside is the more thoughtful of the two. Weed, meanwhile, falls into the 'impulsive side-kick' territory, looking to score a heroin fix as soon as he can.

What elevates Weed from others like him is his quirkiness. He carries a brick-sized copy of Roget's Thesaurus in a carrier bag, in a bid to learn the sorts of words that come easily to Ste, and dreams of becoming a fashion designer.

The pair, however, have more immediate concerns, not just Ste's desire to patch things up with Dee but also the threat of local drug dealer Braler (Alan Sherlock), who brings with him guilt from the past. Nally strikes a careful balance, there's humour here, particularly between the hapless Weed and Ste, who banter back and forth in the manner of people who, for better or worse, know one another inside out. Outside of their bubble, however, there's but no doubting that the world of drugs threatening to suck the pair back in is anything but a dark and dangerous place that holds few attractions. There is nothing funny about violence in this film but though the brutality feels real, Nally doesn't glorify it, instead accentuating the constant sense of threat by the power of suggestion and showing the unpleasant aftermath.

Martin, who also co-wrote the film with Paul Murphy, brings considerable depth to Ste, a sense of old wounds underpinning the stress of the present, while Mills lends Weed a tears-of-a-clown pathos that ensures we care about the character rather than just laughing at him. Masterson's role is less complex but she brings heart to Dee and there's some notable character acting from Conor Lambert as bible-quoting dealer John "The Baptist".

The cinematography from Stephen C Walsh is unfussy but gives a strong sense of place, capturing the more downtrodden parts of Dublin that don't usually make it into films, while Joe Conlan's score also helps to balance the lighter and darker elements of the mood. Nally always retains the sense of potential about Ste and Weed, even in the direst of circumstances. And when it comes to potential, everyone involved here also has it in spades - let's hope they have an easier route to making their next film, they deserve it.