To go back to the well a second time is risky. To do it a third time is truly tempting fate, but despite the odds, writer/director Refn pulled it off. Again.
This time the focus is on Zlatko Buric's Milo - the drug dealer who was a supporting character in the first two films. I wasn't a fan of Buric in the first film; I thought he came off as too friendly, too indulgent, and too passive a presence to be taken seriously as a feared crime lord, but here Refn and Buric have made that work for them.
The plot again revolves around money owed due to a drug deal gone south (Is there any other kind?), but this time the focus is on what it takes to hold onto what a man has built, especially as age advances, and a new generation wants a piece.
This sort of territory has been successfully explored in criminal settings before, in The Godfather trilogy, in The Wire, to name two, but Buric's slightly exhausted, slightly lacking in energy performance adds a sad note to this tale. If he was ever feared, it was a long time ago, and Milo is clearly now coasting on reputation.
Pusher III: I Am The Angel Of Death continues the second films focus on the family life of its criminal characters. Milo is here not only contending with rival gangs and drug distribution issues, but with his own drug addiction, and the 25th birthday party of his daughter who is used to getting what she wants.
This immersion into one particularly stressful day for Milo allows Refn to engage in the Pusher series' trademark vision of criminal life as a whole lot of sitting around, talking, nothing-happening punctuated by explosions of violence and chaos. This style lets us sit with the characters as they probe each other, try to establish trust, and occasionally resort to violence if they need to.
The movie wisely reintroduces Slavko Labovic's Radovan from the first movie; the gangster who is all smiles until he has to break your legs.
That unease, that tension between nothing happening/everything happening, friend/enemy, quiet/violence, resonates throughout the film. The handheld camera, the dirty locations and production design, the actors nervy energy all lend themselves to a sense that things aren't right.
On this busy day, we follow Milo from place to place, as he gets increasingly frayed, and the tension ratchets up, reaching boiling point in a finale that is as remarkable for its violence as for its unflashy, no-nonsense approach to that violence. Violence is simply a part of these people's lives, and as shocking as it is to us, it's just another chore for these men.
This film doesn't attempt to sum up the Pusher series (it doesn't even reveal what became of characters from previous movies) but taken as a whole, these films offer a window into life lived on the criminal edges of Copenhagen. A life of grime, paranoia, and violence. Taken as a trilogy, it's a serious achievement.
This time the focus is on Zlatko Buric's Milo - the drug dealer who was a supporting character in the first two films. I wasn't a fan of Buric in the first film; I thought he came off as too friendly, too indulgent, and too passive a presence to be taken seriously as a feared crime lord, but here Refn and Buric have made that work for them.
The plot again revolves around money owed due to a drug deal gone south (Is there any other kind?), but this time the focus is on what it takes to hold onto what a man has built, especially as age advances, and a new generation wants a piece.
This sort of territory has been successfully explored in criminal settings before, in The Godfather trilogy, in The Wire, to name two, but Buric's slightly exhausted, slightly lacking in energy performance adds a sad note to this tale. If he was ever feared, it was a long time ago, and Milo is clearly now coasting on reputation.
Pusher III: I Am The Angel Of Death continues the second films focus on the family life of its criminal characters. Milo is here not only contending with rival gangs and drug distribution issues, but with his own drug addiction, and the 25th birthday party of his daughter who is used to getting what she wants.
This immersion into one particularly stressful day for Milo allows Refn to engage in the Pusher series' trademark vision of criminal life as a whole lot of sitting around, talking, nothing-happening punctuated by explosions of violence and chaos. This style lets us sit with the characters as they probe each other, try to establish trust, and occasionally resort to violence if they need to.
The movie wisely reintroduces Slavko Labovic's Radovan from the first movie; the gangster who is all smiles until he has to break your legs.
That unease, that tension between nothing happening/everything happening, friend/enemy, quiet/violence, resonates throughout the film. The handheld camera, the dirty locations and production design, the actors nervy energy all lend themselves to a sense that things aren't right.
On this busy day, we follow Milo from place to place, as he gets increasingly frayed, and the tension ratchets up, reaching boiling point in a finale that is as remarkable for its violence as for its unflashy, no-nonsense approach to that violence. Violence is simply a part of these people's lives, and as shocking as it is to us, it's just another chore for these men.
This film doesn't attempt to sum up the Pusher series (it doesn't even reveal what became of characters from previous movies) but taken as a whole, these films offer a window into life lived on the criminal edges of Copenhagen. A life of grime, paranoia, and violence. Taken as a trilogy, it's a serious achievement.