In a dystopic future Scotland, a vicious megolamaniac millionaire murders a Firstminster’s reputation and makes his fight with him personal.
Windfarms at the seaside are set to do more damage to Scotland than the bombing of Clydebank ever did, according to Trumpton.
EXCLUSIVE REVIEW OF THE MOVIE THAT JIST ISNAE THE TALK O’ THE STEAMIE
By Hin Sane
MAD ALEX is a prototypical detente gone wrong, tartan noir movie, stuffed foo o’ puffed up egos, betrayals of trust, public humiliations, dodgy deals, revenge, appeals to reason and classic misunderstandings.
Essentially this charmless film is a Faustian pact where previous bestest buddies, through circumstance, mixed motivations and conflicting ideologies, end up trying to destroy each other.
One wants to be President of Scotland – Mad Alex. The other, Donald Trumpton, wants to turn the North of Scotland into a golfing dollars cash cow, while subjugating the hapless local natives into his personal fiefdom.
Initially, Mad Alex does all the running, putting his reputation on the line and selling his soul in desperation to attract the American Trumpton dollars.
He walks over the little people of his beloved heather clad homeland with their quaint wee cooncil traditions and hands Trumpton the green light for what quickly degenerates into some quite disturbing scenes of environmental rape and plutocratic bullying.
This is Mad Alex’s first betrayal of his beloved people in the name of progress and it opens the gates to the further corruption of his tartanised soul.
As is to be expected in this genre, events, aspiration and raw ambiton set the characters on a collision path which is never properly realised in the movie.
Mad Alex’s desire to be seen as the Sun King of Green energy policies begins to unravel when a new wind farm encroaches on Trumpton’s view.
Trumpton strikes back and gains the upper hand, launching a counter offensive by funding the enemies of progression.
Mad Alex cries foul and runs to tell the Electoral Commission teacher but they tell him to go away and raffle his sel’ he’s a big boy now, reminding him that he sterted it.
Setting itself up for a sequel, the movie finishes with Mad Alex blubbing into his somewhat extensive navel while picking up the phone to contact his good buddy Goebbels Murdoch for advice.
Verdict: A movie with a very clear moral along the lines of running with the hare and hunting with the hounds. Hopefully the sequel answers the question, just how long can these two grotesques lord it ower the pair wee people of Scotland? *** Stars