Criminal [VHS]

The Criminal/The Concrete Jungle is, for my money at least, one of Joseph Losey's two best films (the other being King and Country), but it never really garnered the kind of success or reputation it deserved, possibly because it had the misfortune to open on the same day as Saturday Night and Sunday Morning, which completely overshadowed it. Billed as `the most violent film ever made in Britain,' even 45 years on it's still vicious stuff. Indeed, in the entire cast of characters that populate Alun Owen's excellent and unsentimental screenplay - irredeemable crooks, vicious prison warders, prison governors who don't really want to know, amoral molls and assorted perverts and thugs - the only two people in the entire film who aren't totally corrupt are Laurence Naismith's arresting officer (who is still not above letting on about his informants) and the piano tuner who appears in one brief scene. The plot is a simple enough variation on Touchez Pas au Grisbi, with Stanley Baker's con pulling off a big job and immediately being ratted out by one of his partners who wants a bigger share, but the stark execution and background is what carries it. Certainly its vision of the British prison system as a Hellish melting pot of refuse of all persuasions - Irish, Australian, Italians, West Indians, the mentally disturbed - where the guards don't only turn a blind eye to vicious beatings but even facilitate them is a kick in the groin to the more sedate cop movies of the day.

It's also full of memorable little moments, from the prison weasel spreading the news of an informant's return inbetween lines of Knick Knack Paddywhack to Kenneth J. Warren's inability to say anything without incorporating the word `loike.' Robert Krasker's black and white cinematography has more bite to it than most of its contemporaries, from the hard stark edges of the prison scenes to the bleak half-snowscape of the haunting final shots, while Johnny Dankworth's score makes great use of Cleo Laine's mournful prison balled ("All my loving, all my joy/Came from loving a thieving boy"). The supporting cast is impressive, offering a virtual who's who of perfectly cast 60s British character actors, including many faces that would later memorably turn up among the ranks in Baker's Zulu). Unlike the wave of British gangster flicks to litter the straight-to-video shelves post-Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels, this feels like the real thing rather than a bunch of nicely brought up middle class kids playing dress-up. For some curious reason Anchor Bay's otherwise excellent transfer omits the end credits, played over a melancholy shot of prisoners walking in circles in a stark and wintery exercise yard.

No problem with the film or the extra's such as the trailer & documentary but why cut off the end cast and closing music. It is on the VHS released by Warner some years ago. As a film collector I want the whole film!

I saw this film many years ago, on its release. I found it a very haunting work; a chilling depiction of prison life. The film's hard edge is enhanced by the black and white photography and its setting in winter - the snow scenes at the end augment this effect. I feel that if the story was set in the United States it would be classed as a classic film noir, especially if filmed in the 1940s. In the same period it might also have been be classed as one of the works of the British 'Golden Age' of film. On the other hand it was released in the 'New Wave' of British film - the late 50s to early 60s. In view of this I am puzzled as to why this work is not better known and not often shown. There are many positive reviews of this work on this site and I would like to add to them.