Real Time

Randall Cole’s film is a lot better than on the surface it appears to be. For a start its got a neat low-budget premise  - a hitman and his victim spend the latter’s final hour together, witnessed in real time – and, in addition despite its seeming exploitation-oriented superficiality, it actually has a point, something which is gradually revealed as the film progresses.

Set in a crummy working class neighbourhood of some Canadian city, Randy Quaid, plays Reuben, a hitman (apparently of Australian extraction) who has been given the job of whacking Andy (Jay Baruchel) a young, no-account compulsive gambler who not only owes Reuben's boss, $68,000 but has been making fun of him behind his back. Hence the contract. The pair float around the drab, wintery streets in Reuben’s car, with Reuben, a nice guy despite his job, trying to get Andy to see how it’s no-one else’s fault but his own how this situation has come to pass. Andy, for his part, steadfastly blames his chronic bad luck. Meanwhile '70s pop songs play on the car radio à la Reservoir Dogs.

Cole keeps the tone likeably low key, both in terms of the action and the black comedy although the crudity of language is probably more extensive than it needed to be. The film largely relies on the two leads to bring off Cole’s script which they do although Quaid’s accent, whilst passable, wouldn’t fool a real Australian. Real Time may have limited ambitions but it realizes them well.

 

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