Brighton Rock

The British gangster genre is one of which I have never afforded much time. A genre, which, for the most part, has developed an unforgivably lazy attitude towards each and every aspect of filmmaking. Whilst America has generally led the way in regards to gangster movies with obvious classics such as The Godfather trilogy, Goodfellas (Martin Scorsese, 1990) and Casino (Martin Scorsese, 1995) the UK has conjured up Guy Ritchie; a director of such dire ineptitude as to have single-handedly destroyed the genre by steeping his films in a world of pantomime villains and wholly insufferable cockney geezers. Sadly, due to the inexplicable box office success to have met some of these abominations, films of this ilk appear to have set the template for the genre as a whole, leaving masterpieces such as Jonathan Glazer’s Sexy Beast (2000)much maligned and unjustly forgotten. 

On watching John Boulton’s original Brighton Rock (1947) the level of the genre’s decline was made even more apparent. The film follows Pinkie Brown (Richard Attenborough), a 

young gangster running a protection racket at a race course in Brighton. After he and his gang have a rival mobster murdered in a way that looks like suicide, a local woman named Ida (Hermione Baddeley)becomes suspicious and sets out to discover the truth behind the mans death. On meeting a young waitress called Rose (Carol Marsh), Ida realises that the girl may be able to reveal the truth as to what really happened. The ensuing events force Pinkie into an increasingly desperate situation, as he tries to maintain his status and keep the truth from being revealed.

Aside from the thoroughly gripping storyline Brighton Rock displays an exceptional film noir aesthetic and exposition. Far from the present day cartoonish tone of films like Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels (Guy Ritchie, 1998) in which the characters are presented in a misguided fashion of larger than life comedy, Brighton Rock holds its veneer of brooding menace and underlying tension throughout.

This brilliant construction of dark intensity and imminent threat is embodied to perfection by the performance of Richard Attenborough, whose portrayal of Pinkie holds the film together spectacularly. His stern and, occasionally manic demeanour is not only hugely iconic, but also highly intimidating, often staring into space whilst fiercely and randomly wrapping a piece of string around his hands as if he is preparing to strangle someone with it.

The performance of Carol Marsh as Rose is also extremely impressive, providing just the right level of innocence and naivety to the character to keep the audience on her side, even as she continues to protect Pinkie in spite of his terrible crimes.

However, in spite of Brighton Rock’s numerous outstanding attributes, it is still a far from perfect piece. One particular thing which I found frustrating was the occasional moment of erratic nastiness from Pinkie. For instance, when recording a gramophone message as a present to Rose, he inexplicably rants about how he hates her and is only marrying her to secure her silence. Not only is this action extremely stupid and uncharacteristic due to the fact that he is trying so hard to keep his secret under wraps, it is also a completely pointless device to remind the audience that he’s the baddie; a fact that should be pretty obvious to anyone from the moment Attenborough first appears on screen.

Although Brighton Rock may not be quite the masterpiece I had heard and read so much about, it is still immeasurably superior to the vast majority of films belonging to the genre to have been produced in recent years. One can only hope that in the renewed interest generated by Rowan Joffe’s 2011 remake, future directors might just look back to this as their template for the next stage in the development of the British gangster flick.