Something I’ll never forget is the first time I experienced David Mackenzie’s gritty U.K. prison drama Starred Up and was introduced to Jack O’Connell through his powerful breakthrough performance. I got the same vibe with Cal McMau’s equally raw, visceral incarceration film Wasteman. Although I’m quite familiar with star David Jonsson, who I interviewed for Rye Lane and have been a fan of ever since, he shows an intensity that he’s never been asked to deliver before. When paired up alongside co-star Tom Blyth, the explosive chemistry between them is enough to elevate well-worn material about the brutality of life on the inside.
Most prison dramas focus on the most violent inmates, the guys nobody wants to fuck with. One of the things I loved about HBO’s series Oz is that it also showed the prisoners who are no threat to anybody and just want to survive long enough to get out. Wasteman is like a smaller version of that. Jonsson plays Taylor, a drug addict whose addiction only got worse behind bars. He cuts the hair of the most dangerous inmates, not just for drugs but for safety. You can by one look at him that Taylor is a man deeply in pain, racked with regret, and if he could tuck himself away and vanish he would do it in a heartbeat. But he also just wants to connect with the son, Adam, that he never got to see grow into a young man. However, the boy’s mother isn’t having it.
It’s almost like the gods are conspiring against Taylor, though. He soon learns of an opportunity for early release due to overcrowding. All he needs to do is keep his nose clean for a few days, sign a few forms, and he’s free to go home. Should be easy enough. Taylor keeps his head down for the most part. However, he’s suddenly “gifted” with a troublesome new cellmate, Dee (Blyth), and chaos follows in his wake. A transfer from another prison where he was a major handful, Dee arrives and immediately spots that Taylor is someone weak enough to be used and manipulated. Dee, a drug trafficker with plans to control the prison’s market, is loud, brash, aggressive, and always spoiling for a fight. It isn’t long before he makes all of the worst enemies, and threatens to pull Taylor down with him.
Wasteman explores the comprimises that prisoners sometimes have to make in order to survive. For Taylor, who is a pretty decent guy who made one bad mistake, it isn’t enough to have opioids take the edge off each day. Now, stuck in Dee’s chaotic orbit, he’s forced to be someone else, do things he would never do, because there’s simply no other way. While the friendship with Dee is toxic all the way, Taylor sorta becomes like a sidekick, sharing meals, moving drugs, and sharing details about his life on the outside. Information is strength, but inside of a prison it can also be a weakness. Dee is exactly the type to use what he knows about Taylor and his family for his own crooked ends.
Jonsson delivers a powerful, soulful performance, carrying a lifetime of remorse in his every action. Blyth is the polar opposite. The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes actor is a force of nature, a whirlwind of toxic machismo and violence. Jonsson and Blyth click magnificently when sharing the screen, and both actors have bright futures ahead of them.
McMau and DP Lorenzo Levrini frequently shift gears visually, capturing the shadowy stillness of isolation and loneliness during Taylor’s quiet moments. But just as often it cuts quickly to shaky vertical camera phone footage of extreme prison violence, making the point that, yes, prison is Hell. Wasteman doesn’t attempt a larger idea than that, its ambitions as confining as the concrete walls holding so many in lockup. The biggest takeaway is that we are fortunate to be on the groundfloor of Jonsson’s career, and as long as he doesn’t limit himself, the sky is the limit.
Wasteman opens in theaters on April 17th.
