CHOPPER

Directed by Andrew Dominik. Starring Eric Bana)

“I’m just a normal bloke who likes a bit of torture,” explains the eponymous hero of Chopper, by way of self-justification. He is, possibly, the most unforgettable cinematic character in years, and Chopper lacks any competition as the most extraordinary film 2000 has had to offer.

Enthralling and unnerving in equal measure, it is the absurdly hilarious and horrifically violent biopic of Mark ‘Chopper’ Read, a man who owes his nickname to his penchant for hacking off toes and the like. A best-selling author and thug, he has evaded the long arm of the law despite notching up murder victim number nineteen, thanks to a spot of collusion with the authorities.

Our story begins in 1978, with our hero already down for a 16-year stretch, having kidnapped the judge presiding over the trial of his best mate Jimmy. When Chopper asserts his hardness by stabbing the prison’s resident top dog in the neck, he is somewhat shocked to discover that Jimmy himself has taken up the contract on his head, resulting in an extraordinary scene wherein Chopper warmly embraces his assailant while being repeatedly stabbed.

Fast-forward to Melbourne 1986, and Chopper is released, having acquired celebrity status and the delusion that he is now a vigilante on the police’s payroll. In no time, we’re back into a savage whirlwind of woman-beating, dick-waving, not-so-casual racism and speed-induced paranoia, with a couple of killings thrown in for good measure.

As you may possibly have gathered, Chopper isn’t exactly a lovable-rogue movie in the conventional sense. Nonetheless, every wince is quickly followed by a laugh-out-loud moment, and every psychotic act is underscored with the kind of no-worries-mate Aussie knockabout humour we got treated to in The Castle. The net effect, for the viewer, is something like being trapped in a never-ending loop of the Joe Pesci ‘You think I’m funny, huh?’ outburst in Goodfellas.

Above this, Chopper himself is downright fucking tender on occasion: he will shoot you in the face one minute, before immediately dropping to the floor on his hands and knees, begging you to get up and have a beer with him, his face racked with anguished what-have-I-done remorse.

Debuting director Andrew Dominik creates such an innovative, harsh aesthetic that when Chopper gets bombed out of his box on speed, the visual presentation of his altered state of consciousness is the most effective since Keitel’s drunken swagger in Mean Streets. Meanwhile, the virtuoso central performance of Aussie comic Eric Bana is simply inspirational, combining unpardonable brutality and a noxious worldview with a surreal sense of humour and pathos approaching sweetness (seriously).

The cinematic equivalent of a jagged 48-hour run on the cheapest and mankiest speed you could get your hands on, Chopper is utterly compelling, brilliantly complex, totally unmissable, and probably the film of the year.