Of course, Tarantino would never make a film about someone like Noonan. For one thing, he wouldn't be able to understand the man. Stocky and bullet-headed, with businessman glasses and gangster-flash suit, Noonan talks a blue streak throughout the film in a Mancunian accent so thick you could spread it on toast. He also fails to fit the cinematic definition of a gangster by living quite mildly (despite the millions he's allegedly stolen) in a standard-issue working-class house, not to mention being gay. Noonan doesn't let his late-blooming homosexuality define him as somehow a man apart from the many generations of thuggish criminals his family appears to have spawned, it seems simply a rather small detail of the pulp novel that is his life. He seems too busy lording it over his particular patch of Manchester real estate to waste much time worrying about the difficulties of being gay in a criminal environment.
Continue reading: A Very British Gangster Review
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