Paul McGuigan directs Paul Bettany, Malcolm McDowell and David Thewlis in this violent flashback of an ageing gangster shocker. 

Told with a cocky, if often superficial, visual panache, a million uses of the word “cunt” and a breakout performance from Bettany – this is a solid example of the genre that ran rampant after Lock Stock’s success. What a pity it disappears up its own arse in the final half hour. When we are in the Sixties, we enjoy a psychopath literally crawling out from under his own skin, riddled with the violent horrors he holds within. There’s a moment of silent primal scream where Bettany’s mouth threatens to devour his own head, it widens so terrifyingly wide. Cthulhu in a mohair suit, he could make a great Joker. But when we fast forward to the modern day for retribution and regrets, it fizzles out to nothing. Dodgy old age make up, McDowell hamming about in a narrative dead end. Shame.

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