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A very Pinteresque tale of veteran violent man having to deal with the ghosts of his old masculinity. Part of what makes this work so well here is the combination of the high symbolic charge that takes over every plot element and the very lived in way Glazer redeems Winstone’s retirement life, the conflict between the abstract film of ideas and the much more naturalistic post life its central character desires becomes the film’s central aesthetical trust. This does has some flaws (chief among them the Boulder act is stronger than the Kingsley act which is stronger than McShane one), but even its weaker scenes get by in a combination of Winstone’s great central turn and Glazer’s use of color and composition to keep the film off balance. Final act suffers some by how Glazer seems a bit to in love with perversely playing against genre expectations (which is made up some by McShane very creepy performance that keeps the tension going). I’m a bit surprised by how most reviews treat this mostly as a superior brit gangster film as it is both means whitewashing the film of most of the odd elements that help keep it interesting and ignore that the genre stuff is the weakest parts of it.
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