Brothers Of The Head

As a long-time fan of the work of Brian Aldiss, I had eagerly waited to see this film ever since I heard it was in development, and for once I was not disappointed. The story of conjoined twins exploited by the music industry in Seventies England, Brothers Of The Head was one of those little-known novels which nevertheless had considerable cultural influence - as punk developed an obsession with the freakish, Aldiss was asking questions about society's treatment of those with genuine physical differences, questions which have rarely been addressed as intelligently since.

In the guise of a documentary, this inspired film adaptation brings those questions right up to date without ever losing sight of the fact that it's telling a human story and a story about rock n' roll.

It's difficult to tell a story about exploitation without being exploitative in turn. Brothers Of The Head works around this by using a succession of clever devices including clips from an older documentary, the suggestion that Aldiss' book was a novelisation of true events, and clips from a Ken Russell film adapted from it.

Russell is a great sport and seems to delight in sending up his work, complete with gratuitous sex scenes and a ridiculous animatronic third head. The third head which haunted the brothers in the novel has here been replaced by a tumor inside one of their heads, believed to be a foetus-in-foetu (that is, the remnant of a conjoined triplet). Its intermittent influence provides a disturbing element which makes the viewer increasingly concerned for the brothers and those around them even when things appear to be going well. This, in turn, overshadows more conventional storylines about romance and the boys' stage career.

As the brothers, twins Harry and Luke Treadaway are a revelation, naturalistic and supremely confident, utterly believable both as physically conjoined people and as ordinary boys finding themselves quite by accident in extraordinary circumstances.

There is no need for the film to dwell on old issues about identity and individuality as they distinguish themselves with ease, and the brothers would, indeed, be just as riveting to watch without their 'something special'.

As their new opportunities draw them in different directions, Tom's brooding creativity contrasts sharply with Barry's ferocious self-expression, each endearing in its own way, and it's easy to sympathise with them in their brutal environment. As for their band, The Bang Bang have real stage presence and some genuinely strong songs. Astutely unbalanced sound gives a genuine feel to rehearsals and live recordings, an edge which makes them all the more entertaining.

Brothers Of The Head has a raw feeling throughout, a sense of urgency and immediacy which, in turn, make it linger in the mind long after the credits have rolled. Despite its odd premise, this is far more than a mere curiosity piece; you'd be an idiot to miss it.