Crime, surreal rabbit-man populate British export Sexy Beast

Julien R. Fielding

In the last few years, the British have found renewed inspiration in the gangster film.

Writer-director Guy Ritchie undoubtedly pointed the way with his 1998 hit "Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels," a reinvention of Quentin Tarantino's "Reservoir Dogs," then showed fellow filmmakers he could outdo even himself with last years "Snatch."

But while the recent spate of Cockney crime capers may have taken some cues from the United States, most of their sensibility derives from native models, particularly dark, gritty fare such as 1971's "Get Carter" and 1980's "The Long Good Friday," considered by many Brits as their best home-grown film.

The British gangster film hit a peak last year with, at the very least, a dozen variations on a theme, causing many to wonder when it would all stop. Now, here comes straggler, "Sexy Beast," but with a twist. It's a caper film less about the heist and more about "relationships" ... of a sort.

The film opens with a shot of Gary "Gal" Dove (Ray Winstone) grilling his plump, Hawaiian Tropics-greased flesh poolside in the Spanish sun. Dressed in a tiny lemon Speedo, this middle-aged retired criminal is enjoying hedonistic excesses with his wife DeeDee (Amanda Redman) in Costa del Sol (or Costa del Crime as the British refer to it).

The couple eat at the finest restaurants and grill out with fellow criminal retiree Aitch (Cavan Kendall) and his blond curvaceous wife, Jackie (Julianne White.) Free from British extradition, life couldn't get much finer.

Until psychotic thug Don Logan (Ben Kingsley) comes calling. He wants Gary to assist on a bank job, and "no" isn't an option. When Gary stands firm, violence ensues.

Critics on both sides of the Atlantic have lavished praise on first-time feature film director Jonathan Glazer, and while his background consists of an award-winning ad for Guinness and music videos for pop stars Jamiroquai and Radiohead, the film never reeks of slick commercialism. First-timers Louis Mellis and David Scinto, also are responsible for the script.

To produce their dialogue, the writers seem to have found inspiration in the oddest of places. They combine David Mamet's intensity with Shakespeare's cadences then machine gun fire it all through with a hail of expletive-ridden verbiage. I imagine the same people who admire Ritchie's writings will quickly commit this script to memory.

But as if that weren't enough eclecticism, Mellis and Scinto throw in some whacked out dream imagery in the form of a menacingly twisted human-rabbit.

Those who remember Kingsley as the gentle Gandhi, Moses or Itzhak Stern will need to take extra nitroglycerine tablets when they catch sight of this actor playing the bald-headed, tattooed, foul-word-spewing incarnation of the devil. Many had doubts that this actor had the castanets to pull Don off. Not any more.

Winstone seems more suitable for the Don role - just watch his performance as the wife-beating, hard drinking Ray in Gary Oldman's "Nil By Mouth" or as the incestuous Dad in Tim Roth's "The War Zone."

But while this former boxer looks "hard," he taps into a vulnerability that softens up the character. You may not condone this character's past, but you'll sympathize with him. It's refreshing to see casting agents trying to go against type.

Winstone also interacts well with his costars, particularly Kingsley and the swarthy Ian McShane, who plays crime lord Teddy Bass. McShane brings a cultivated, seductive quality to the film. He's kind of like the Vlad the Impaler of the crime world. Having the former lead star of "Lovejoy" play such a lasciviously ruthless bastard probably carries a kind of kitsch value in Britain that American audiences won't understand. But he's delightfully slimy any way you take it. And you can almost hear him hiss.

Fans of veddy British fare will be pleased to note that James Fox has a cameo as the bank manager.

Those who can navigate the muddy waters of cockney slush-speak (remember that th sounds like f) will enjoy this often surreal plunge into the British caper film, which carries more talking than killing. However, if Michael Caine interviews throw you a curve and you can't abide hearing the f-word about 10 million times, you might opt for a glass of sherry and Masterpiece Theatre instead.

"Sexy Beast" is showing at the AMC Oak View 24 at 3555 S. 140th Plaza in Omaha.

Crime, surreal rabbit-man populate British export Sexy Beast was originally published in The Daily Nonpareil on 26 July, 2001. © Council Bluffs Daily Nonpareil LLC