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.

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.

When I was in Hollywood late last year, I managed to watch Losey's classic sci-fi THESE ARE THE DAMNED (1963) - surely Hammer Films' strangest release; at the time, while I had been sufficiently impressed with the film (despite the poor quality of the print I came across but, at least, it was the full-length version!), I had also found the experience somewhat overwhelming.I couldn't quite explain why I felt this way but, having now watched this contemporaneous title (which, in comparison to the fanciful apocalyptic narrative of THESE ARE THE DAMNED, is a relatively straightforward crime drama of the prison/caper variety), I realized that it was due to the essential stylization of Losey's mise-en-scene which, apart from giving a heightened sense of reality to the already intense proceedings, also rendered the film guilty of a certain pretentiousness (marking virtually every scene) not found in similar genre efforts, certainly British-made - demonstrating a definite change of attitude in cinema towards a greater sense of artistry but also more lenient censorship (the sex and violence in this particular film, while not especially graphic by the standards of even a few years later, are clearly more pronounced than in the previous decade)! Still, to be honest, all of this actually serves to make the film doubly arresting - particularly during this gritty phase of Losey's career (his statelier later work grew increasingly more opaque).What a cast! Stanley Baker was never better than as the almost legendary con whose individuality makes him an outcast even among his own kind, and he's surrounded by some very fine actors - most notably Sam Wanamaker (as his contact on the outside but who harbors ambitions of taking over the gang), Patrick Magee (his first impressive role as a corrupt and menacing prison warden), Gregoire Aslan (as the ageing mobster who rules the underworld even from inside the penitentiary and to whom everyone - Baker included - must acquiesce) and Nigel Green (as Baker's double-crossing associate). Surprisingly, the supporting cast is peppered with faces familiar from several horror films like Rupert Davies (WITCHFINDER GENERAL [1968]), Edward Judd (THE DAY THE EARTH CAUGHT FIRE [1961]), Murray Melvin (THE DEVILS [1971]), John Van Eyssen (HORROR OF Dracula [1958]), Noel Willman (THE KISS OF THE VAMPIRE [1963]), Kenneth J. Warren (THE CREEPING FLESH [1973]) and Patrick Wymark (THE BLOOD ON SATAN'S CLAW [1971]).Speaking of which, Hammer Films stalwart Jimmy Sangster reportedly contributed to the excellent screenplay (actually credited to A HARD DAY'S NIGHT [1964] scribe Alun Owen!). The film's remarkable and claustrophobic black-and-white cinematography is by the great Robert Krasker (Oscar winner for THE THIRD MAN [1949]). Another big plus is Johnny Dankworth's jazzy score, featuring a recurring ballad sung by Cleo Laine.While essentially character-driven, the film's seedy milieu and sadistic streak allows for a number of vivid sequences (though the race-track robbery itself is rather thrown away!) including the wild party held at Baker's flat on being released from prison (highlighting sexy Margit Saad who subsequently replaces Jill Bennett as Baker's moll), the equally chaotic prison riot, Baker's escape from the penitentiary (having been betrayed after the robbery and recaptured) and the inevitable showdown with the ruthless Wanamaker.Unfortunately, apart from the theatrical trailer and admittedly extensive talent bios for both Losey and Baker, the Anchor Bay DVD is a bare-bones affair; pity neither of them is around anymore (Baker died far too young in 1976 at age 49 and Losey, already in his 50s when the film was made, followed him in 1984) to have been involved in this otherwise sparkling edition! Having watched THE CRIMINAL and, more recently, Losey's SECRET CEREMONY (1968), I've rekindled my interest in this important director's work: I have four of his films as yet unwatched on VHS - THE BIG NIGHT (1951), THE ROMANTIC ENGLISHWOMAN (1975), DON GIOVANNI (1979) and LA TRUITE (1982) - and still need to pick up several of them on DVD - EVE (1962; unwatched...if I can find a copy of the Kino disc which includes two different cuts of the film, neither of them the complete 155-minute version!), THE SERVANT (1963), KING AND COUNTRY (1964; unwatched), MODESTY BLAISE (1966), ACCIDENT (1967), the upcoming THE ASSASSINATION OF TROTSKY (1972; unwatched) and GALILEO (1975; unwatched).

Joseph Losey does a superb job of directing cinema-verite'-style from start to finish. From the moment Cleo Laine sings Thieving Boy over the opening credits, I knew I was in for a special experience. Stanley Baker spent a career delivering some of the most haunting criminal characterizations of all time, and this is one of his all-time best. Patrick Magee is memorable in a minor supporting role. An incredible gritty film.