Villain sits as one of the series of London crime films of the 1970s and ranks alongside The Long Good Friday (1980). Richard Burton plays Vic Dakin, an embodiment of the Kray twins, a gay, London gangster who is a violent psychopath but obsessively loves his ageing mother. With his crew he rules by terror and when he plans and executes an armed robbery that doesn't go well Scotland Yard are soon on his tail. Burton seems a strange choice for the part and his performance was criticised as somewhat over the top but viewed today he captures the, perhaps hyped, portrayal of the violent London gangster from the 60s and 70s. At the time this was an especially risqué film with it's language and portrayal of sexual violence including the controlling gay relationship Vic enjoys with his young protegé Wolf (Ian McShane). The story encompasses corruption, police rule breaking (and in this sense its clearly an influence on the iconic TV series The Sweeney) and it highlights the control such criminals had on their territories in London. This film has a good eye for the rundown state of Britain's capital in these times and has those characters such as the bent car dealer, the seedy police informant, strippers, and even a depraved MP ripe for blackmail. A gripping, adult crime film that has that unique English realism that makes these films so good and make them somewhat nostalgic to watch today. The support cast includes Nigel Davenport, Colin Welland and Donald Sinden. This is a top British film of the 70s and one to check out if you've never seen it.
This is an interesting enough entry into the British crime movie genre, but more for its historical context than its success as a movie.
An excellent cast seems to struggle with a laboured script and a narrative that is often too indebted to the story of the Krays (the mother adoration, the violence of the repressed homosexuality etc).
In some ways it is not 'nasty' enough: it just doesn't have the edge of 'Get Carter' or 'Performance'.
Richard Burton struts through 1971 London as mobster Vic Dakin, but the menace fades fast, swallowed by the beige. Dakin’s queer relationship with his younger lover, played by a brooding Ian McShane, hints at something darker—part protection racket, part S&M psychodrama—but it’s never fully explored. The real fun is spotting sitcom stalwarts—Tony Selby, Colin Welland, and a parade of ‘oh-it’s-him’ faces from 70s and 80s telly—before they vanish into the background.
With Ian le Frenais and Dick Clement at the typewriter, its no surprise that the plot plays like an overlong episode of The Sweeney, Minder, or The Professionals: punch-ups, punchlines, and predictable payoffs. It’s a far cry from the tension of Get Carter or the danger of Performance. As vintage grit—with Woodbines, Ford Cortinas and flares—it’s an engaging fossil. As cinema, it’s merely adequate—best filed under ‘curio’ and left to gather dust.