Review: Cell 211
Ordinary people thrust into extraordinary situations. A familiar storytelling device designed to wring tension out of otherwise soggy bath towels, and tug away at our own conscience. How would we react in those circumstances; and with what consequences? This is the approach taken in Cell 211, a taught and compelling look at the prison drama genre from a distinctly fatalistic viewpoint. The film begins with a man committing suicide in some detail, carving his arms open and dropping them into the dingy sink of his prison cell. Cell 211.
Juan Oliver is taking a look around his new place of work the day before he’s due to start. Familiarising himself with his colleagues, the surroundings, the procedures. Before long, however, the inmates of the prison in which he’s about to begin working in as a guard, decide to riot. Juan Oliver is knocked unconscious by falling debris and the guards have no time to get him to the infirmary before they must vacate the ward and lock it down securely. He gets left behind.
He’s discovered lying in Cell 211 by a grunting, slab of an inmate with a voice resembling a diesel engine filled with gravel, and he quickly realises that in order to survive the violence he has to convince them that he’s a new inmate rather than a new guard. Luis Tosar steals the show as the genuinely frightening ringleader, Malamadre, who always seems a breath away from unflinching violence and another away from a welcoming grin. For his part, Alberto Ammann, as Juan Olivier, provides a quietly engaging performance as the ordinary bloke, with a pregnant wife at home, thrust into an unthinkable situation in which he must react quickly to keep one step ahead of the inmates.
Allied to the central performances, the film manages to steer a clever course through the minefield of prison drama clichés. There are, of course, villainous guards who abuse their position of power and betray Juan at the first sign of trouble. There are also inmates with a code of honour, quick witted quips and a sense of personal dignity. And there is the prison rat who scuttles between the two forces playing one against the other.
However, these tropes are all handled in such a way as to serve the story, constantly levelling up the odds that Juan Oliver’s stay in Cell 211 will not end pleasantly. At times the film does flirt with mawkish sentimentality, as seen in the flashbacks of Juan and his pregnant wife, cavorting happily the morning before the riot. Yet, just when it seems that it might slip too far into this territory, the graphic brutality of the events surrounding the prison reel it straight back in.
There may be a plot hole here, a baffling character decision there, but as with any successful thriller, these quibbles soon fade away, as the action becomes almost unbearably balanced on the point of disaster. An intelligent, well acted, thoughtfully filmed, and compelling drama that will entertain throughout its running time, if not prove memorable in the long run.
