Lightdeossk Captivating movie !

StyleSk8r At first rather annoying in its heavy emphasis on reenactments, this movie ultimately proves fascinating, simply because the complicated, highly dramatic tale it tells still almost defies belief.

Gary The movie's not perfect, but it sticks the landing of its message. It was engaging - thrilling at times - and I personally thought it was a great time.

Dana An old-fashioned movie made with new-fashioned finesse.

NateWatchesCoolMovies 44 Inch Chest is packed full of bloated, preening masculinity, cold hard chauvinism and dense, wordy exchanges that seem pulled right off the stage, an intense bit of British pseudo-gangster quirk with two writers who seem intent on heightening every syllable to near surreal levels of style. The same scribes are responsible for the glorious verbal stew that can be found in Paul McGuigan's brutal Gangster No. 1 as well as Sexy Beast, and while the level of viciousness here is left almost entirely to the spoken word alone, the elliptical sting of their script still hits home, and even ramps up a bit from those films. A mopey, consistently weepy Ray Winstone stars as boorish Colin Diamond, an gent whose wife (Joanne Whalley Kilmer) has been caught in an affair with a chiseled french pretty boy (Melvil Poupoud). He resorts to a melancholy, comatose state as his perceived manliness visibly circles the drain. His circle of friends arrives, each with their own flamboyant ideas for resolving the situation. Velvety Meredith (Ian McShane, cool as a cucumber) looks on in snooty amusement. Violent guttersnipe Mal (Stephen Dillane, replacing Tim Roth) has the brawn but neither the brains nor ambition to act. Archie (Tom Wilkinson) is the bewildered everyman. Old Man Peanut (a fire and brimstone John Hurt who devours the script like a lion feasting on a gazelle) is a bible thumping, crusty old pot of fury who suggests that wifey should be stoned to death for her indecency and betrayal. They spend the better part of the film pontificating like a babbling senate, whilst Winstone languishes in despair. One wonders what the point of it all is and where it's going, until we arrive at an oddly satisfying third act that somehow negates almost everything we've seen before it. Strangely enough, though, it works, if only to give us something we've never quite seen before, pulling the rug of genre convention out from under us and giving us a piece that almost could resemble a spoof of other works, if it weren't so damned straight faced and persistent in its execution. In any case, I could watch this group of actors assemble ikea furniture and it would still be transfixing. It's just a room full of talent shooting the breeze for most of the running time, and in a genre where one can scarcely here the performers talk over the gunfire and cheekily referential soundtrack a lot of the time, I'll damn well take something a bit more paced, quiet and stately. Winstone smears over his usual seething anger with a morose depression would almost be endearing if it weren't so pathetic. Wilkinson brings his usual studious nature. McShane is pure class in anything (even a few B movies I'm sure he'd love to forget) and he swaggers through this one like a regal peacock, getting some of the best lines to chew on. Dillane is detached and indifferently cruel, with seldom a word uttered, his lack of mannerism contrasted by the vibrant animosity of his three peers. Hurt is pure gold as the closest the film comes to caricature, just a vile old coot who belongs in the loony bin raving to the walls about awful things that happened 'back in his day'. Different is the key word for this one, and one might be easily fooled by the poster and synopses into assuming this is a revenge flick populated by action and violence. Not so much. Although a lot of the time that is my cup of tea, it's nice to get a welcome deviation once in a while, and this one is a real treat.

Neil Welch Colin's wife is leaving him (possibly because he is a loony thug), and Colin's friends persuade him to kidnap her lover and subject the fellow to various unpleasantnesses.Let me say that the cast in this film - Ray Winstone as Colin, also John Hurt, Tom Wilkinson, Ian McShane, Joanne Whalley, Stephen Dillane) are all first rate. If you want an object lesson in applied acting, watch this film.If not, then you may have problems. Because 44 Inch Chest is so relentlessly unpleasant, an entire film full of unpleasant people being deeply unpleasant all the time, that some people - and I'm one of them - may find it almost unwatchable.The victim is deliberately kept mute so that it is difficult to identify - and therefore sympathise - with him. Which means you are left with 5 unpleasant men acting their socks off.This was not to my taste at all.

McCamyTaylor First, since perspective counts, I am a woman. I suspect that my being a woman is part of the reason that I like this film more than "Sexy Beast"---which usually gets more stars. "44 Inch Chest" is a lot like one of those movies where sorority sisters get together after 20 years apart and spill their guts and all walk away feeling better about themselves and each other, because they are no longer pretending. Except in this film, the "sorority sisters" are underworld criminals who like to say "f--k" a lot. I say "f--k" a lot, too, so I never felt like getting up and leaving the theater, because of the profanity. And a good thing, too. Because the last ten minutes or so of this movie are among the most powerful and true that I have ever seen.Women are not the only one's who hate themselves. And, by hating themselves, I mean hating their emotions. It is just that men and women are taught to hate different emotions. Women are allowed to grieve but not to express anger. That is why somewhere near the end of a chick flick, all the women get mad. Really mad. And then they laugh and feel so much better.In the case of men, anger is 100% fine. But men are not allowed to grieve. So, we see a roomful of tough guys do what guys are supposed to do---get brutal. And brutal again. And brutal some more---- Until the end, when we realize that all that anger and brutality is meant to hide the sorrow and tears that men are never supposed to shed.Ian McShane is wonderful in this movie, in large part, because he plays a character who knows himself. And who is gently nudging the hero, Ray Winstone to know himself, too. That makes McShane the Master and Winstone the monk in need of enlightenment. Enlightenment, when it comes, is painful, but it feels good, too.If the violence in this film failed to satisfy, maybe it is because the violence was never meant to satisfy. Maybe the film maker's goal all along was to make us cry.

lupineursus I don't usually bother to write anything as it is either redundant or pointless, or I think it will impact no-one. I suffice to give points alone. This was a superbly done film. The acting was impeccable and the writing unusually well put together. One reason I think it did not do so well is that people have not had these experiences in their life yet, or if they have it is too painful to face. It hit home at a variety of levels and made my wife and I go over our own lives. I was riveted during the whole film and the ending could have gone any way. It took place basically all in one room. It would have made a great play if it hasn't or hadn't already. I have not checked yet. Yes. there was lots of profanity, but it went with the emotions evoked during the film. Bravo, for a film well done.