REVIEWED BY JONATHAN LEWIS:


VILLAIN. MGM, UK/US, 1971. Richard Burton, Ian McShane, Nigel Davenport, Donald Sinden, Fiona Lewis. Based on the novel The Burden of Proof by James Barlow. Director: Michael Tuchner

   Some might find Villain a bit slow. A little too talky. And in some ways, they’d be right. For a gangster movie, Villain does have more than its fair share of quiet moments or social situations in which the main characters are just sitting around talking to one another. But it all has an ultimate purpose; namely, developing a great anti-hero in the form of East End gangster Vic Dakin (Richard Burton).

   Burton portrays Dakin as a man torn between his sociopathy and his tenderness. On the one hand, he’s a gentle soul, a caregiver for his aging mother. On the other, he’s a ruthless scoundrel, ever desperate to remain atop the pecking order. Burton disappears into the role, showcasing his talent as one of the finest British actors of his generation. And with that Welsh accent of his, he really stands out. Dakin is a character that you won’t soon forget.

   Speaking of unforgettable characters, there’s also Dakin’s underling, Wolfe Lissner (Ian McShane). Lissner is a colorful character, far less violent than Dakin and more self-aware. He’s the guy you go to for illicit things: women, men, drugs, whatever. In the movie, his Jewishness gets mentioned more than once. I am wondering whether in the book this was more fully fleshed out. But he seems to represent those hard-edged Yiddish-speaking gangsters of yesteryear; one suspects that his character was likely based on someone in particular or developed as a composite.

   The story? Well, without giving away too much of the plot, let’s just say that Villain is both a character study and a cat-and-mouse police procedural, with a London police inspector close on Dakin’s trail, particularly after a robbery goes awry.

   But it’s not really the plot that drives the film so much as Burton’s presence – his very physicality – and the movie’s seedy, criminal, and cynical atmosphere. For if any movie is drenched in the atmosphere of economically stagnating early 1970s London, it is this one. Watching this movie, one feels not just the dampness and the chilly wind on a sunny day in Brighton, but also the general state of the country. Uncertain, plodding along, wishing for better times.

   That’s where Dakin comes in. He’s not an angry young man. He’s a furious middle-aged man. One who has made the decision that the only way to get ahead in a society that has offered him less than what he thinks he deserves to is to do it illicitly. He’s raw, tough as nails, filled with pride and bluster, and ultimately the victim of his own hubris and propensity toward brutal violence.