- Culture
- 10 Aug 11
Brilliant premise and superb performances make this prison drama a tense, thrilling experience.
The day before he’s due to start his new job, new prison guard Juan (Alberto Ammann) has an accident during a tour of the jail, falling unconscious in the eerily empty Cell 211. When he awakens, he finds that the convicts have staged a riot and are now in control of the cellblock. In order to survive, he must pretend to be a hardened prisoner. As a fellow policeman remarks, “A lot can happen in ten minutes.”
And a lot happens in Daniel Monzón’s brilliant two-hour Spanish drama. From its opening shots of an emancipated prisoner slowly slitting his wrists to its blood-soaked finale, its exploration of corrupt police forces and prisoner psychology make Cell 211 a thrilling exercise in unbearable, unrelenting tension.
Juan’s fellow posse of prisoners act like a reverse chart of the evolution of man. Institutionalised and stripped of their most basic of rights or any humane treatment, some of them seem terrifyingly subhuman, and therefore capable of anything. This is perfectly demonstrated when a prisoner is reunited with a guard who viciously beat him. Advancing towards the policeman, lead pipe in hand, his cellmates recognise the singular look of revenge, cackling, “Look at him, he’s a zombie!” Though their plight is understandable, even at times sympathetic given their atrocious treatment, the audience is still fearful for Juan. Though he must strive to remain undiscovered, it’s clear he’s quickly becoming infected with the Darwinian mindset of his surroundings, and his steep descent from a civilised man of the law to bloodthirsty renegade is chilling – as is the violence, which is graphic, vicious and frequent.
The performances are flawless, and though every character, from the terrifying but honour-bound thug Malamadre (an incredible Luis Tosar) to the jaded, corrupt guard Utrilla (Antonio Resines), has been moulded by their experience of prison, they are all fully-rounded and brilliantly written.
All of which makes Crash director Paul Haggis’ planned American remake a needless, senseless crime. Serve your time well with this incredible version instead.