You might remember writer/director Nicola Collins and her producer sister Teena from Snatch, where they played Mike Reid’s raven-haired, if slightly rubbish, daughters.
But what emerges when they turn the camera on their actual father, Les ‘The Doctor’ Falco, a convicted East London gangster, and his friends is enough to make Guy Ritchie soil his strides.
In a series of unrelenting, black-and-white close-ups, these walnutfaced hatchet men brought up on “bare-knuckle boxing and pigeon shit” relate gob-smacking gangland tales of murders and misdemeanours, cut throats and broken lives.
They’re eloquent, witty and quietly terrifying, the glitchy visuals and chilly score undercutting the laughs with a tremendous sense of foreboding. At one point the image simply switches to black mid-sentence, as if in horror. It’s not hard to see why.
These twinkly, jovial men once ruled ‘The (East) End’ with violence and fear, but you could pass them in the street and never know.