The Criminal (1960)

Directed by Joseph Losey; produced by Jack Greenwood

Johnny Bannion (Stanley Baker) is a career criminal being released from his latest prison sentence. He already has another caper in mind: robbing a race-track. Backed by a shadowy gangster (‘our friend in Highgate’), Bannion and his cronies successfully carry off the heist. That action proves to be easy compared to what follows: double-cross, murder and riot. It’s an open question whether Bannion will survive at all, never mind find the loot he has hidden.

A tough and violent film, The Criminal is part prison movie and part crime story. Usually, trying to combine disparate elements, even if they are related, comes across as awkward or disjointed. That’s not the case here, as the script and direction blends them smoothly as an author might the chapters of a novel. The film flows easily and, despite the twists and turns Bannion encounters, is not confusing.

Baker does an excellent job in the title rôle. It seems there was no tougher tough-guy in British cinema in the 1960s than Baker. Even when playing good guys, there was a simmering menace beneath the surface, though he could portray concern and compassion, as well, albeit in a rough, hard-edged manner. He is in his element here, though the character he creates is three-dimensional. (As a side-note, Baker, like many actors who portrayed hard, brutal or vicious people on screen, seemed to be just the opposite in real life.)

Bannion, however, highlights the principal problem with The Criminal. The viewer doesn’t really sympathise with the main character, or with any of the others, really. The robbery is not detailed enough to involve the audience – it is not, obviously, meant to be anything but a device to further the plot – and the convolutions that follow provide entertainment but not engagement. At no point does a viewer find himself hoping for a positive outcome for Bannion. One wonders what will happen next – will he get away with it? – but whether or not it matters probably does not occur to the audience. A contrast may be made with the story and Sterling Hayden’s character in The Asphalt Jungle.

Other actors do very well. Six of them – Patrick Magee, Nigel Green, Neil McCarthy, Larry Taylor, Tom Gerrard, Dickie Owen – worked with Baker in 1964’s Zulu. Tom Bell, Laurence Naismith and Sam Wanamaker are also in the cast, as is Roy Dotrice, in his cinematic debut. All are very capable in that seemingly effortless, workmanlike way that even minor actors have in British films of the time.

The Criminal’s depiction of prison life in 1960 Britain is interesting. The convicts wear uniforms (with ties!) that were almost identical to British Army battledress; a visitor to the prison remarks that Bannion ‘looks like a soldier’. They are allowed to play darts, yet are punished for possessing knives. At one point, prisoners are put to work at what appears to be picking oakum, though I suspect that would not have been done as late as 1960.

As entertaining as The Criminal is, however, it is not quite enjoyable. It doesn’t bring the audience in to the story, nor does it make it support the main character. The movie turns out to be much like Bannion; it is intriguing to spend time with, but won’t turn out to be anyone’s favourite.