The Krays (1990)
Directed by Peter Medak

Film Review

The real-life criminal exploits of Ronald and Reginald Kray, London's most infamous gangland bosses, could supply enough raw material for at least a dozen full-length films but Peter Medak's stylish 1990 biopic does a reasonable job of condensing their lives into one feature, concentrating more on the very different personalities of the two men rather than their violent gangster activity.  Despite being a little uneven and too hastily truncated (the film fast-forwards from the murders that led to the twins' arrest to their mother's funeral, completely omitting their high-profile trial), The Krays is a compelling study in the criminal mindset, intelligently scripted by Philip Ridley and directed with considerable flair by Peter Medak.  The decision to cast the brothers Gary and Martin Kemp (famous as the lead singers of the pop band Spandau Ballet) was controversial but both actors acquit themselves magnificently, making this one of the more memorable British gangster films of the 1990s.

The film tries a little harder than it perhaps should to humanise the Kray twins, particularly Reggie, who comes across as an essentially good guy who was corrupted by his psychotic brother.  However, it never lets us forget what a nasty piece of work both men were, in the horrific scenes in which they dish out bodily mutation to anyone who gets in their way.  The sequence in which Ronnie gives someone a so-called Chelsea grin (by pushing a knife lengthwise into his mouth, inflicting a permanent smile on the victim) is almost too shocking to watch and leaves a very nasty aftertaste.  The Kemp brothers do a superb job of conveying the psychological complexity of their characters, and despite their physical similarity we soon have no difficulty telling them apart.  Gary Kemp's viciously paranoid Ronnie could hardly be more different from Martin Kemp's cooler, more considerate Reggie.  The former is an out-and-out bully and sadist who treats everyone, including his gay lover, with total contempt; the latter is a more sensitive soul who might have been a decent, law-abiding citizen if he hadn't had the misfortune to share a womb with a dangerous psychopath.  Reggie's reaction to his wife's suicide is almost as harrowing to watch as his brother's slice-and-dice handywork, but it is apparent that both men share a severely fractured identity and the same wildly obsessive desire to make something of their lives.  Neither man is an angel, but neither are they purely demonic.

The film stresses the importance of the Krays' mother Violet in shaping the monsters they were to become.  Billie Whitelaw's arresting portrayal of Violet Kray offers another fascinating character study, that of a hard-bitten, independently minded woman who lives only for her sons and who bitterly regards all men as children who are condemned never to grow up.  The film leaves us in no doubt that Violet Kray was instrumental in deciding the fate of her two sons, fuelling their wild ambitions to prove themselves worthy of her excessive maternal devotion.  Whilst the Krays' savage life of crime is hard to forgive, it is as well to be reminded that theirs was a story of epically tragic proportions.

The main virtue of Peter Medak's film is that it makes no attempt to glamorise gangland criminality or make heroes of its central protagonists (as most other gangster films tend to); instead it stresses the ordinariness of its subject, two brothers from a modest background who just happened to become the most feared men in London.  What is perhaps most shocking about the film is not its occasional excursions into Tarantino-style ultra-violence, but the fact that the Krays are portrayed as two pretty ordinary guys whio are just trying to better themselves.  There is something quaintly surreal about the way the Krays remain tied to their mother's apron strings as they become increasingly rich and powerful.  How many other gangster films are there in which the principal hoodlums have their mum casually bring them up a cup of tea when they're holding a gangster conference in her spare bedroom?  To its credit, the film does not expect us to sympathise with the Krays, but it does manage to get us to see them in a slightly more human light.  Do the Kray twins deserve to be re-fashioned as ordinary human beings?  That's up to the spectator to decide.

Film Synopsis

In the 1950s and '60s, Ronnie and Reggie Kray were the most notorious gangland leaders in London.  The twins' reign of terror ended in 1968 when they were arrested and convicted of murder.  They came from humble origins, born in the poor East End of London in 1933.  Even as boys they were a mischievous pair, but to their overly protective mother Violet they were Heaven-sent angels for whom she would do anything.  Having completed their national service, the twins soon found themselves on the wrong side of the law.  With money obtained from their protection racket, they acquired a string of nightclubs and were soon rolling in cash, feared and admired as self-styled underworld kings by all who knew them.  As their empire grew, the Krays found themselves up against other gang leaders and began to notice traitors in their midst.  When it came, their fall was to be sudden and spectacular, and well-deserved...