Gangster No. 1 | Review

The resurrection and new found popularity for the British gangster film genre can be in part attributed to the recent success coming from Guy Ritchie’s Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels & Snatch. Such films will probably pave the way for more of the gangster film type, here we have a film that makes a different stride-that makes absolutely no attempt at being pretty or cheeky. If you are looking for your gangsters to be bad and do really bad things then you might consider Paul McGuigan’s debut feature entitled Gangster No.1. Reminiscent of The Krays with an amalgamation of stinky homage’s to many films such as White Heat, Scarface, Reservoir Dogs, Pulp Fiction and McDowell’s own, Clockwork Orange. Gangster No.1 starts off with a rather dull introduction, with the slow-motion device utilised to an extreme, I guess we have to think slower since the gangsters are in their twilight years clad in cigar smoke, foul mouths and bad suits. One piece of news throws the film into flashback mode, with our central character (Malcolm McDowell Clockwork Orange) as the narrator we are transported to London in the late 60’s. Freddie Mays (David Thewlis) is the kingpin looking for the young apprentice. The role of the protagonist is split between the gangster as a young man (Paul Bettany) and as the gangster in his twilight years. The younger gangster has the perfect face and demeanour for the role; basically you would not want to owe this guy any money. Whatever sign of acting brilliance to come out of this role is suppressed by the so-over-the-top and unconvincing performance coming from the older version of our main gangster.

As the plot begins to unfold, we witness the small-time thug and his quest to eventually become the- No.1. The core of the film then revolves around this notion that our young gangster has this fetish-like fascination for what we first believe to be, the kingpin’s life at being at the top with all the goodies that comes with it, the cuff-lings, the suits, the leather couch, the cars and which also includes the girl, (Saffron Burrows Circle of Friends) who plays the traditional role of the side-dish in the story. It soon becomes apparent that he does not want to be like him, but he actually wants to be him, foreshadowed by one scene in which he looks at himself through a mirror replacing his predecessor. A change in hierarchy is about to occur, but not before we get to witness a brutual sequence in which our gangster strips down to his underwear and proceeds with a bloodbath torture session. Because there is so little to look forward to, I’ll avoid discussing what these actions result in and why we are transported back to the present time. The film employs a flashback structure mode, switching between the two time periods, which could have been interesting if only we had no idea of the end result; instead we are supposed to become interested in the morals issues that McGuigan’s brings to our attention. My main complaint with the film is if as director you are making an issue out of the moral issues then they should be elaborated about and not merely suggested, too many questions remain unanswered, what are the motivations of the protagonist? Where does his appetite for destruction come from? Why does he want to become him so badly, what are the motivations for this fixation? Ultimately, we are left with nothing to uncover or discover. With almost no interesting developments in the narrative and an ending with no pay-off, we are forced to sit and wait already knowing and forseeing what will occur. Are we surprised to see that anyone can resume a singing career when your throat has been slashed open? the answer is, yes. There are plenty of unimpressive camera tricks, namely the blurring of the camera to display consciousness of a victim, the camera playing the point-of-view as the victim in the bloodbath scene, or the final sequence with the useless jump back and forth cuts…yuck. Then we have the use of songs to serenade violence (e.g. Singing in the rain for Clockwork Orange) which has been done too numerous a times to actually be of any interest in today’s cinema. The believability factor is tested and missed with the dreadful make-up jobs to demonstrate the ageing process. It seems that McGuigan is simply filling up the voids in his film with endless tripe, with most of the film spent in this lousy apartment lends to a little boredom for the viewer, especially in the final sequence that seems to drag on forever…this is a bloody f*¤king mess of a film.

Rating 0.5 stars