Cast: Ray Winstone, Tom Wilkinson, Ian McShane, John Hurt, Stephen Dillane and Joanne Whalley

Director: Malcolm Venville

Screenwriter: Louis Mellis and David Scinto

Possibly breaking the record for how many times the ‘C’ word is uttered in a film, 44 Inch Chest isn’t for the prudish or easily offended. But what else can you expect from the duo behind Sexy Beast? Screenwriters Louis Mellis and David Scinto are back, with the help of first time director Malcolm Venville, and this time they’re exploring love, jealousy, pain and sexuality from a very masculine view point (hence the title) with a stellar line up of prime British talent.

The film opens with Colin Diamond (Winstone) spread in a manner approximating a beached whale amid his trashed belongings, in his spacious suburban house with ‘I Cant Live, If Living Is Without You’ (the original, not Mariah’s) blaring out the stereo is. Is he alive? Yes, fortunately, it’s just his heart that’s broken.  His wife Liz (Joanne Whalley), a glamorous older woman, is leaving him for a young waiter known only to us as Loverboy (Melvil Poupaud) and after a violent altercation in which he literally tries to beat said fella’s name out of her, Liz disappears out the glass back doors and is gone.

Alone and devastated, Diamond’s morally dubious friends assemble in a run-down back street gaff, having previously kidnapped Loverboy and locked him in the room’s wardrobe.  What will Diamond choose to do with him? In Sexy Beast we spent a long, tension-filled time waiting for someone to turn up and in 44 Inch Chest we’re put through the same, this time awaiting Loverboy’s fate.

The rest of the film takes place mostly in that one space, apart from a few flashbacks and a psychological sequence born from Diamond’s mind. Winstone does a good job of reminding us it’s difficult to watch a grown man, especially an uber-masculine one like him, cry but his friends are indifferent to his emotional breakdown. After all, his experience of love and relationships are singular and the others all have their own idiosyncrasies when it comes to this matter. For example: Meredith, played sublimely by Ian McShane, is a hedonistic homosexual who’s idea of a relationship is defined by the four F’s – ‘Find ‘em, Follow ‘em, Finger ‘em and F*** ‘em’; Old Man Peanut, played by a scene-stealing John Hurt whose performance alone is reason to see the film, is an old-school gangster who thinks gay sex should be a prosecutable offence and women should be seen and not heard; Mal (Stephen Dillane) is a malignant young man who sees woman as sexual objects and Archie (Tom Wilkinson) still lives with his 80-year-old mother.

The next hour is spent with much discussion and banter between the boys, whilst Diamond runs the gamut of painful emotions from loss to betrayal and, possibly, guilt. Winstone’s performance is extremely physical; he stomps around on screen ape-like in his primal anger, his sweaty, screwed up face filling the screen as he delivers a lengthy, heartfelt monologue to his wife’s lover. Juxtaposed with this though is the crass humour that flies about as the boys enjoy taunt Loverboy. Liz meanwhile, the only woman in the film, is portrayed as an evil temptress who never appreciated her husband’s many gifts though it’s easy to see that this was probably not the case.

All of which makes for an entertaining, if stagy feeling, movie. The ending, however, is an anti-climax and leaves you feeling there should be something more, a twist in the tale perhaps or an eruption of sorts. It also fails to tie-up all the loose ends and this is where it falls short of matching up to its predecessor. Still, it’s comforting to know boys certainly do cry. Like babies in fact.

By Heidi Vella

44 Inch Chest is out now courtesy of Momentum Pictures