You won't be disappointed!

A different way of telling a story

Simple and well acted, it has tension enough to knot the stomach.

It’s fine. It's literally the definition of a fine movie. You’ve seen it before, you know every beat and outcome before the characters even do. Only question is how much escapism you’re looking for.

Joseph Losey's film has acquired something of a reputation since it's release way back when, though it's hard to see why. Stanley Baker playing the eponymous villain is convincing enough but the script and characterisations are weak. This is particularly evident in the prison scenes which comprise most of the film. The incarcerated are stock characters so beloved of British films of this period and they perform true to type (ie terribly). The exception is one of Beckett's favourite actors Patrick Magee, his sinister prison guard is a real stand-out. Aside from his performance the other outstanding feature is the photography from Robert Krasker which, ironically, suggests what a great film this could have been.

No doubt about it, Stanley Baker is a riveting screen presence. He commands just by appearing. Maybe it's that patented jut-jawed intensity. In my little book, he's the main reason for catching up with this British crime drama, which otherwise is a disappointment considering that noir-master Joe Losey is in charge.Admittedly, I lost some of the British dialogue because of my American ears. Nonetheless, there's a one-note monotony to the visuals, the characters, and the storyline-- no one can be trusted, life is grim, and the visuals rub our nose in the ugliness. Still, the movie is titled Concrete Jungle, not Concrete Vacation, so as far as the marquee is concerned, there is 'truth in packaging'. Nonetheless, there's little suspense or tension in the screenplay, an odd outcome for a crime drama. Events simply follow on one another without much structural development. Why the robbery itself is passed over is puzzling since that would have provided needed suspense. My guess is that a detailed depiction would have followed too closely on the heels of Kubrick's superb racetrack robbery in The Killing (1956). But, whatever the reason, both the crime and the aftermath are dealt with in unimaginative fashion.Losey does keep things moving in fast-paced style, while Wanamaker's slippery gangster represents an interesting character. Nonetheless, the result lacks the compelling social ambiguities of his better American films. All in all, I agree with reviewer BOUF—the result is "clunky and uneven", with an "under-developed script". Considering the source, I expected better.

Shrewd, fearsome underworld kingpin Johnny Bannion (a superbly steely and convincing performance by Stanley Baker) gets sprung from the joint so he can mastermind a bold racetrack heist for his slick, shifty hoodlum buddy Mike Carter (a splendidly smarmy Sam Wanamaker). Johnny winds up being incarcerated again after hiding the stolen loot. Can he survive long enough in jail to get back out and retrieve the money? Director Joseph Losey, working from a sharp, precise script written by Alun Owen and Jimmy Sangster, offers a fascinatingly vivid and flavorsome depiction of the seedy criminal milieu, relates the arresting story at a steady pace, and maintains a fierce, unrelenting intensity that never lets up to the literal bitter end. This film further benefits from top-notch acting by a stellar cast, with especially stand-out turns from Baker, Wanamaker, Gregoire Aslan as cunning Italian mop capo Frank Saffron, Margit Saad as Johnny's brash, enticing new girlfriend Suzanne, Jill Bennett as neurotic spurned moll Maggie, Patrick Magee as rugged, no-nonsense prison guard captain Barrows, Laurence Naismith as meddlesome detective Mr. Town, and Kenneth J. Warren as the brutish Clobber. Robert Krasker's crisp, fluid black and white cinematography, the colorful characters, John Dankworth's rousing jazzy score, the uncompromisingly grim'n'gritty tone, the haunting bluesy theme song that's gorgeously sung by Cleo Laine, a potent central message about how greed and money lust destroy the human soul, and the powerful downbeat ending add immensely to the considerable jolting impact of this bang-up little winner.

Joseph Losey's C.V. was nothing if not eclectic.Once considered by some critics as a major force in British Cinema,he can,with hindsight ,be seen to have been following trends rather than creating them for most of his career.Nonetheless,his films were,as a rule,recognisably the work of a considerable artist,albeit one working within the limits imposed by the studios,and within clearly defined genres. He was involved in film-making for 45 years,right up to his death in 1984. Blacklisted by the H.U.A.C.,Mr Losey brought a welcome dash of verve and inmagination to a fairly moribund British Film Industry. He could take a straightforward prison movie like "The Criminal" - destined to be a pot-boiler in the hands of many an English hack director - and turn it into a rather remarkable work. The British cannot do crime films.I know we think we can,and we certainly make enough of them,but the results give lie to the proverb that practise makes perfect.It's not enough to fill the screen with snarling professional Cockneys with tattooed fingers like bunches of sausages spouting rhyming - slang never heard outside of a script writer's study in Islington.Watch Britpop gangster films like"Lock,stock etc" or "Essex Boys" and you can scarcely hear the dialogue for laughter and the more ludicrously violent the film gets the more the audience laughs."The Criminal" is not noticeably risible. There is violence,but it is not comic book violence,it is the sort of violence that leaves it's victims scarred physically and mentally. There is real menace.Mr Stanley Baker and Mr Sam Wanamaker are hard men. Compared to them Mr Sean Bean is a pussycat,Mr Vinnie Jones a dilettante. It is not so much a film noir as a film gris,the exteriors shot in bright light,softening the contrast whilst retaining pin-sharp focusing.These shadings of grey reflect the moral ambivalence of the main characters.Only the truly unpleasant P.O. Barrow,played with hissing relish by Mr Patrick Magee,is shot in high contrast. Mr Stanley Baker is very convincing as a major criminal,hardly surprising when you consider he had been known to move in the same social circles as some of London's biggest villains.He makes no unnecessary gestures,remains aloof from his fellow prisoners,truly a man apart.You just know he won't be taking up those courses in basket weaving. The plot - such as it is - revolves around a "Thieves fall out" scenario familiar to moviegoers since the first train robber galloped across the flickering screen.It's familiarity doesn't matter,its what Mr Losey does with it that counts,after all,"Romeo and Juliet" wasn't exactly state of the art cutting edge audience challenging stuff when Shakespeare first got hold of it. Released at a time when British films were just about to enjoy a short - lived renaissance,"The Criminal" ended up being trampled under the feet of critics lavishing excessive praise on a succession of flat cap and whippet sagas that eventually disappeared up their own outdoor privy. Viewed at a distance of 45 years,Mr Wanamaker crossing the street in his camelhair coat is an image that will remain long after the last crumpled Woodbine is ground out in an overflowing ashtray in a smoke - filled changing room before the poor exploited hero runs out - coughing to play football/rugby league/pigeon racing in front of an audience of seven men and a dog - probably a whippet.