Ray Winstone as a retired villain on the Costa del Sol? Do me a favour. Sexy Beast, on paper at least, has a ring of been-there-done-that. The tale of the English mobster in Spain leaned on by nasties over from Blighty has been done before, in Stephen Frears's memorable 1984 film The Hit. So the debut feature from Jonathan Glazer - the commercials whiz behind the famous Guinness horses - needed to bring something new to the table. And, against all odds, it does.
What is different here is not so much the story as the treatment, and the frequent changes of register make Sexy Beast consistently surprising. The mood jumps from tenderly grotesque social comedy to Pinter-toned menace to full-blown heist extravaganza, with trimmings of nightmare surrealism at the edges.
Winstone is endearingly vulnerable as Gal, a hard man turned big blubbery softie, first seen basting himself like a well-oiled turkey under the blazing sun. The heaven he shares with his wife Deedee (Amanda Redman) is soon disrupted, first by an outrageous bit of stage-managed trickery in the opening moments, then by the arrival of the much-feared Don Logan. He is played by Ben Kingsley in a performance that sandblasts away any residual scrap of Gandhi sanctity, putting the fear of God into you the moment he strides on in his crisp, short-sleeved shirt, gimlet glare reducing all comers to jelly. Kingsley doing a number on a hapless airport official is a tour de force - you never knew the actor could be this funny, or this scary.
The invasion of Gal's cosy nest could easily have fuelled the whole film. Glazer, and writers Louis Mellis and David Scinto, take a risk by opening the story out into the second half's elaborate heist. But the effect is so jarring that it works, and the film-makers avoid the usual gangland geezerisms by concentrating on the grim cosmology of the crime universe - the fact that above one hard man, there is another, then another, until you get to the prince of darkness himself, here played by Ian McShane with a curiously prissy walk that only adds to the menace.
Some of the usual genre echoes are here (James Fox's languid cameo calling to mind Performance) but Sexy Beast is not the routine, self-conscious recycling job. It is darker, wittier and altogether more human than any of the current British crime cycle. The sense that Glazer and co are trying to cram too much in only adds to the exuberant mischief.
At the Odeon West End 2, London WC2, tonight. Box office: 020-7928 3232.
