Think of something you love. I don’t mean the way you love pizza or ice cream or long walks on the beach, I mean really love. Deeply love. Love so much you look for opportunities to bring it up in completely unrelated conversations. How do you begin to describe something you love unabashedly?
This is the problem that Hot Fuzz presents for me: I love it so much that it’s hard to know where to start but I’ll take a cue from the film itself and start with Sergeant Nicholas Angel.
He is the ultimate police officer: a highly-trained combatant, a community-based safety officer, and a member of elite divisions of the Metropolitan Police Force Service. Though the intro section has a bit of fun with his various areas of expertise, it’s fair to say that a character like this would be perfectly suited for any serious action film.
The protagonist’s impressive credentials as a police officer are balanced by his trainwreck of a personal life. He recently ended a serious relationship, is living out of boxes with recruits in a training house TK, and has recently discovered that his supreme competence as a police officer has made him a pariah among his fellow cops. In an effort to stop him from making the rest of them look bad, he’s transferred to the country.
Something that makes this story work is contrast. Sergeant Angel is the ultimate action hero, but he doesn’t relish the moments when he’s had to tangle with the bad guys. His partner Constable Fanny Batterbum Danny Butterman is the exact opposite: a bored cop from a dinky town who craves the excitement of proper action like engaging in high-speed pursuits and firing his gun up in the air and going “AAAAAAAHHHHH!!!”
As partners, these two seem first to be mismatched but then friendship blossoms and they learn from one another and grow as human beings. Of course, this all unfolds as a nefarious series of grisly murders occur behind the scenes – murders which everyone else perceive as merely unfortunate accidents.
As Angel and Butterman try to solve the mystery, as well as find even a little proof of these alleged murders, they grow into friends and, perhaps, even more than that. Which brings me to my personal pet theory about this film – it’s actually a romance.
I can already hear your objections, trust me I know how hard it can be to suddenly realize a truth that was obviously under your nose the whole time. Allow me to present my case and remove any doubts:
- Near the beginning of the film, Sergeant Angel’s ex-girlfriend laments that he doesn’t know how to switch off – and that until he finds something – OR SOMEONE! – then you never will.
- They go on dates! Their outing at the theatre, spending time at the pub, their time together at the church
fairfete… the list goes on and on. Now, I know someone is going to object and say, well, they are partners in law enforcement, and that’s just how that works, to which I reply… Shut up! Shut! Up! Nothing about their being cop partners requires this amount of togetherness outside of the office. And even when they are on assignment, they always seem to find excuses to be in close proximity to one another. Which brings me to point #3… - They’re perfect for one another. Their various quirks and eccentricities mesh in a way that makes both of them better cops – and bettter people – for different reasons. Danny learns to exercise agency and stop treating his job like something he did just to please his dad while Nicholas learns to loosen up and occasionally switch off.
- The way Nicholas gazes briefly at Danny before refusing to accept a post back in London. Look at the following gif and tell me you still have doubts:
It’s a pity that what would easily transform into a romance if you gender-flipped just one lead character was kept hidden in the subtext, but it was 2007 and while that might not seem very long ago, it was in some ways a very different world and if the film had openly embraced being a gay romance then it would have been pigeon-holed at the box office as nothing more than a gay romance.
The backdrop for this film is equal parts goofy and horrifying but the motives and justifications of the lead villain have certainly crystalized in recent years. I find this moment in particular quite chilling because of how frequently the “greater good” morphs into something objectively evil:
I wished we lived in a political environment where this film was less relevant, but in many ways that relevance is what makes the film a little scarier than I think its creators intended. Ultimately the stark contrast contained within a warm and friendly town that mercilessly exterminates its undesirables sends chills down my spine.
Regardless of any accidental prescience, the film’s clever wit and the over-the-top nature of the violence keeps it from becoming dragged down by the cold, disinterested wheels of history. And while it may have accidentally become more frightening with time and circumstance, that only makes its humor shine through that much brighter.