'Wasteman' review: British prison drama delves into survival manual

Like the environment in which they take place, prison movies can feel terribly restrictive. Often focusing on well-worn themes of masculinity, regret, and redemption, they present (and sometimes indulge) crude depictions of tortured characters suffering physical and emotional tumult. Inherently compelling, but also a little predictable, the genre promises a tantalizing glimpse into a terribly sexist world, one that most of us are lucky not to experience firsthand.

Cal McMau's directorial debut hardly reinvents the formula, but it does remind audiences of what remains so strong about the premise of an everyman trying to survive behind bars. And thanks to rising star David Jonsson's latest impressive turn, “Wasteman” even finds some new notes to play within a stark, familiar melody.

Jonsson is Taylor, who has been serving 13 years in a UK prison for a drug deal that went tragically wrong and led to an accidental death. Soft-spoken and overly accommodating, the young man mainly wants to avoid trouble, allowing himself to be intimidated by ward bullies Paul (Alex Hassell) and Gaz (Corin Silva) while offering to cut their hair in exchange for the pills that fuel his addiction. Taylor has learned to get along, existing in a zombie-like state due to the perpetual high she chases.

But Taylor's stalemate is interrupted by the news that he may be granted early parole. (The UK's overcrowded penal system needs to get rid of non-violent prisoners to make room for dangerous criminals.) Longing to reconnect with her estranged teenage son Adam (Cole Martin), Taylor can see the light at the end of the tunnel—until the arrival of her new cellmate, Dee.

Played by a grumpy, coiled Tom Blyth, Dee struts while Taylor cowers. Seeing her new home as her kingdom, Dee quickly becomes the prison's main supplier of everything it needs (sneakers, candy, drugs) while fiercely asserting her dominance. (At the beginning, Dee cuts into the face of a fellow inmate, recognizing him as someone who was once with a rival team.) Taylor adapts to the volatile situation as she always has, serving as the harmless beta, eventually earning Dee's trust and friendship. Soon, Dee takes an interest in Taylor and orders her lackeys outside to give Adam gifts that they claim are from his father.

“Wasteman” presents this odd couple scenario and then waits for their fragile coexistence to break down. Accustomed to being the bosses of the prison, Paul and Gaz don't like Dee invading their territory, causing an escalation of tension that puts Taylor's parole at risk. But if much of “Wasteman” follows the expected trajectory, Taylor's conception in the film turns out to be thornier than anticipated.

Although he is probably best known for the HBO series “Industry,” Jonsson has demonstrated dazzling range in a short period of time, including romantic dramas (“Rye Lane”) and dystopian thrillers (“The Long Walk”). But what unites his various roles is the sense of being a sensitive and intelligent actor who constantly makes us wonder what he is thinking.

Jonsson's silences always seem to speak volumes, and in “Wasteman” he capitalizes on his reserved demeanor and smaller frame to create a character who is far less terrifying than those around him. Unlike Dee, he's not a hardened criminal, just a guy who made a stupid mistake to support his son financially, and “Wasteman” initially encourages viewers to sympathize with this delicate soul who's been thrown to the wolves.

However, Jonsson gradually complicates our feelings towards Taylor. Equally desperate to be released and to continue taking drugs (essentially escaping from one prison while staying in another), it is slowly revealed that he has few principles or ethics. When Paul and Gaz confront Dee, Taylor's response is so cowardly as to be pathetic, suggesting a cowardice that plagued him long before he ended up in prison. The film presents Taylor as a kind spirit, who turns out to be little more than calculated self-preservation.

Within the confines of a fairly conventional prison drama, McMau looks at an anonymous nobody who discovers that, in prison as in life, there are consequences for not taking sides. Despite Dee's savagery, Blyth portrays Taylor's cellmate as loyal and honest, someone who believes in a personal code of conduct. The bitterest irony of the film is that, of the two men, it is ultimately Dee who may be the more honorable.

McMau's attempts to amplify the story's grim authenticity occasionally fall flat. (Inspired by footage filmed by real inmates with contraband cell phones, the rookie director incorporates stage inserts meant to recreate these intimate and graphic images.) It's on firmer footing as it explores its two protagonists as they clash within this steaming crucible. Like Jonsson, Blyth hints at an entire universe within her character simply by the way she listens and silently observes. As Taylor's parole approaches, the risks increase. As “Wasteman” reaches its ambiguous end, our loyalties are far from clear.