Tom Hardy attacks the role like a psychopath with a claw hammer. It’s hard to tell whether he inhabits the character or it inhabits him. It’s the kind of high-intensity performance that leaves you as breathless as after a punch to the gut.
Hardy, pate shaved into a hard, bony dome that seems designed for head-butting, stares down the camera as if it had just insulted his mother. He challenges the audience to hold his gaze. He addresses us directly, smashing down the fourth wall with pile-driver delivery and a physical presence not unlike a wrecking ball. It is a jaw-dropping piece of acting.
- from a review of Bronson in The Times. (Yes, I do have a certain affinity towards well-worded reviews about Tom…)
