Diagonaldi Very well executed

Pacionsbo Absolutely Fantastic

Aneesa Wardle The story, direction, characters, and writing/dialogue is akin to taking a tranquilizer shot to the neck, but everything else was so well done.

Zlatica One of the worst ways to make a cult movie is to set out to make a cult movie.

Spikeopath The Criminal (AKA: The Concrete Jungle) is directed by Joseph Losey and written by Alun Owen. It stars Stanley Baker, Sam Wanamaker, Margrit Saad, Patrick Magee, Grégoire Aslan, Rupert Davies and Laurence Naismith. Music is by John Dankworth and cinematography by Robert Krasker.Johnny Bannion (Baker) is an ex-con who's taken part in the robbery of a racetrack but is caught and sent back to prison; but not before he has time to bury the cash from the gig. Back in prison Johnny is keeping the cards close to his chest but finds there are big crime forces wanting a piece of his action. With plans afoot to "twist" his arm, and his girlfriend kidnapped, Johnny knows something is going to have to give...All my sadness and all my joy, comes from loving a thieving boy.Once tagged as being "The toughest picture ever made in Britain", The Criminal obviously seems tame by today's increasingly over the top standards. Yet it still packs quite a punch and shows the very best of Messrs Losey, Baker and Krasker.In some ways it's a strange film, the pace is purposely slow and the narrative is bolstered by bouts of hang wringing tension, where periods of calm come laced with a grim oppressive atmosphere, but there's often electricity bristling in the air when Bannion (Baker is magnetic and brilliant as he apparently models the character on Albert Dimes) is holding court. Even when on the outside and feeling the love of a good woman, Bannion exudes a loner like danger, he's tough but being a hard bastard can't break him free from the shackles of his life. We know it and you sense that he himself knows it, and it gives the film an exciting edge not befitting the downbeat tone of the story. Characters here have not been delivered from happy land, you will struggle to find someone here who isn't nasty of heart, bad in the head or simply foolish. Inside this concrete jungle it's a multi cultural hive of emotional disintegration, and at the core stirring the honey pot is one Johnny Bannion. The film makers here are all about pessimism, self-destruction and the battle against the system and the underworld, right up to (and including) a finale fit to grace the best noirs of the 40s. Losey and Krasker ensure the prison sequences are stifling, the walls close in, the bars and netting are unsettling and close ups of the odd ball assortment of crims and warders strike an incarcerated chord, visually it's an impressive piece of noirish film. But it's not just about shadows and filtered light, the director has skills aplenty with his camera. A kaleidoscope shot has a delightfully off kilter kink to it, while his overhead filming and pull away crane usage for the frosty cold finale is as memorable as it is skillful in selection. Musically the pic begins and ends with the soulful warbling of Cleo Laine, the tune is a Prison Ballad (Thieving Boy), and it's tonally perfect, while Dankworth and his orchestra provide jazz shards that thrust in and out of the story like knowing accomplices to fate unfolding. Set design is superb, especially for the recreation of a Victorian prison which is impressive and makes it easy to not lament an actual prison location used, while the supporting actors are very strong, particularly Magee (Zulu) who excels doing sneaky menace as Warder Barrows.Flaws? Not any if you don't actually expect the toughest film made in Britain back in the day (though it was banned in some countries!). I do wonder why Baker had to be an Irish character and not just be Welsh and therefore do his natural Welsh accent? And if we are are being over critical we could suggest there are some prison stereotypes that even by 1960 were looking frayed around the edges. But ultimately this is tough stuff, a gritty and moody piece of cinema with class on either side of the camera. 8/10

eyesour After buying an 8 disc box set of Losey's films, because I wanted to watch Mr Klein, having heard good things about it, I've now watched another 4 of the discs. Mr Klein was interesting, and actually quite good, but as for the rest, frankly, I'm so far unimpressed. To put one's finger on what's wrong with them, they are, firstly, extremely poorly cut and paced. After about twenty minutes one simply ceases to care about the characters, and only dogged determination can see one through to the end. I failed to make it more than once, and after fast-forwarding discovered in any case that the trip would not have been worth it.Secondly, they are irritatingly self-regarding and self-conscious. One gets the constant impression that Losey is permanently saying: Look at me, and what I'm doing. I'm a serious, committed, self-confessed Communist and Stalinist (he actually maintained this attitude for a time), and all you precious intellectuals out there owe it to yourselves to admire and respect me. Sorry, Joe, I'm just not with you on that one. Moreover, although this turgid film includes what amounts to a near-comprehensive roll-call of English character actors, I simply do not respond to the thespian qualities of Losey's frequently employed leads, such as Baker and Bogarde. Baker may have a slight edge over Bogarde, but I wouldn't want to meet either of them.In the end these films are not entertaining, and their messages are painfully dated. If they ever conveyed anything constructive at all, it was only for a short period, post-war and pre-rock n' roll: 1945-1955. True art is gripping and timeless.Two out of ten stars. What has gone wrong with the star system?

writers_reign This is yet another example of a film that was probably impressive when released yet seems risible today. One really expects a little more class from Alun Owen and it's quite possible that the uncredited Jimmy Sangster contributed the lion's share of the Shooting Script given that it bears all the hallmarks of Hammer tat and Sangster and Hammer were made for each other. A lot of second-rate British actors turn in second rate performances here - for some reason neither Murray Melvin or Kenneth Cope are credited on the print I viewed and are probably thankful in retrospect whilst for reasons known only to themselves the producers saw fit to import a German actress, Margit Saad to walk through a gangster's moll role that Joan Collins could have phoned in - ironically Collins' first husband, the dire Maxwell Reed has a small uncredited role. This is arguably the worst movie directed by Losey either in England or America, even The Sleeping Tiger leaves it dead in the water. Would-be hard man Stanley Baker weighs in with his usual would-be hard man performance and throws in a wayward accent that fits where it touches. If it's a choice between this or Carry On Cliché take the latter every time.

aromatic-2 Joseph Losey does a superb job of directing cinema-verite'-style from start to finish. From the moment Cleo Laine sings Thieving Boy over the opening credits, I knew I was in for a special experience. Stanley Baker spent a career delivering some of the most haunting criminal characterizations of all time, and this is one of his all-time best. Patrick Magee is memorable in a minor supporting role. An incredible gritty film.