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Ex-safecracker Gal Dove has served his time behind bars and is blissfully retired to a Spanish villa paradise with a wife he adores. The idyll is shattered by the arrival of his nemesis Don Logan, intent on persuading Gal to return to London for one last big job.
Some crazy cunt in a stupid bunny suit, some in stupid man suits. Oh, bloody hell. Ghandi swears like a God. Ohhhh. Ridiculous. Tremendous. Fantastic. Fan-dabby-dozy ---- tastic.
"Shut up, cunt. You louse. You got some fuckin' neck ain't you. Retired? Fuck off, you're revolting. Look at your suntan, it's leather, it's like leather man, your skin. We could make a fucking suitcase out of you. Holdall. Like a crocodile, fat crocodile, fat bastard. You look like fucking Idi Amin, you know what I mean? Stay here? You should be ashamed of yourself. Who do you think you are? King of the castle? Cock of the walk? What you think this is the Wheel of Fortune? You think you can make your dough and fuck off? Leave the table? Thanks Don, see you Don, off to sunny Spain now Don, fuck off Don. Lying in your pool like…
Retirement as an act of simply caging the animal. A British gangster/heist film plot with all the ultra-violence, obscene "cunts" and unhinged British actors that's been formally fractured and made into something uniquely strange and sensual and disturbing. It's obviously operating at a much more extreme, vulgar register than his particular brand of idiosyncratic tranquillity but imo this is closer to Takeshi Kitano's abstracted, expressive thinking on this genre (that this lifestyle is an extremely suffocating/primal example of work vs. leisure leading to bizarre contradictions and situations) than it is, say, Guy Ritchie's.
Of all the inviolable rules of crime films, one never gets broken: No one ever successfully pulls off “one last job.” What I like about Sexy Beast is that it is set several years after “one last job” must have already taken place, then proves this rule to be true anyway. Even when you survive one last job, there is always one more. And likely another after that.
The boulder falling is one of my favorite uses of foreshadowing ever. Gal tries very, very hard to stray from the life by putting hundreds of miles and multiple countries between himself and his criminal past, but the funny thing about crimes and those who perpetuate them is how far they can stretch their arms and pull you back into an underworld you believed you crawled your way out of. And let us not forget, we’re taking about an inferno comprised of men, and their view of women is, shall we say, less than Dworkinian.
In a way, masculinity is this very underworld—a hell one can’t escape—and no one has more of a macho-madman streak than Don “Ya Fucking Cunt-Ya Fucking…
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