This is an interesting low budget film with limited ambitions. It just wants to show you what life is like for the disabled in today's society, and how forces such as love and friendship can be stronger and more fulfilling than family or social conscience. It is not a great film, and in some ways, given the admirable nature of its intentions, I was quite disappointed that it never really lifted off the ground into anything special.
But crucially, it avoids the common pitfalls that often dog films and plays that deal with this kind of subject matter. There is a warts-and-all realism on screen throughout, without any pandering to depiction of gruesome spectacle for the sake of it. Sentimentality is avoided, while emotions are challenged, and the writers clearly know the difference between the two.
The real pleasure of the film, though, is in the two central performances. Roles like these are rare, and any actor takes a big risk in taking them on. Playing with confidence and commitment, both James McAvoy and (in particular) Steven Robertson turn into characters you believe in, sympathise with, become irritated with and then finally accept as simply human beings trying to make the most of the lives they have been given.
And that's what the film is about really. Nothing more than that. It takes pot-shots at the coldness that can characterise institutional care. But there is no polemic here. The managers of the care home and members of the adjudication panel who thwart the young heroes' attempt to live a 'normal' life are depicted as faintly laughable, rather than evil, and there is never any sense on which they are anything other than well-intentioned (if misguided).
If the film has a central point, other than just the desire to tell a story, it is that true hope for those caught in such cruel circumstances lies in the resilience of the human spirit, not in the handed-down kindness of well-meaning strangers.
There are laughs in 'Inside I'm Dancing' as well as tears. It will make you think. And, while it does ultimately fail to lift itself out of a fairly mundane, directionless plot, it is for all that a fairly poignant, sensitive and evocative journey into a world that few of us can actually relate to.
But crucially, it avoids the common pitfalls that often dog films and plays that deal with this kind of subject matter. There is a warts-and-all realism on screen throughout, without any pandering to depiction of gruesome spectacle for the sake of it. Sentimentality is avoided, while emotions are challenged, and the writers clearly know the difference between the two.
The real pleasure of the film, though, is in the two central performances. Roles like these are rare, and any actor takes a big risk in taking them on. Playing with confidence and commitment, both James McAvoy and (in particular) Steven Robertson turn into characters you believe in, sympathise with, become irritated with and then finally accept as simply human beings trying to make the most of the lives they have been given.
And that's what the film is about really. Nothing more than that. It takes pot-shots at the coldness that can characterise institutional care. But there is no polemic here. The managers of the care home and members of the adjudication panel who thwart the young heroes' attempt to live a 'normal' life are depicted as faintly laughable, rather than evil, and there is never any sense on which they are anything other than well-intentioned (if misguided).
If the film has a central point, other than just the desire to tell a story, it is that true hope for those caught in such cruel circumstances lies in the resilience of the human spirit, not in the handed-down kindness of well-meaning strangers.
There are laughs in 'Inside I'm Dancing' as well as tears. It will make you think. And, while it does ultimately fail to lift itself out of a fairly mundane, directionless plot, it is for all that a fairly poignant, sensitive and evocative journey into a world that few of us can actually relate to.