If there existed a pantheon dedicated to cinema’s most formidable gangsters, Don Logan from “Sexy Beast” would be an instant inductee. Unlike the universally recognized figures like Vito Corleone or Tony Soprano, Don’s lack of iconic status contributes to his overwhelming presence. His appearance, reminiscent of a distant relative of Mr. Clean, contradicts the ferocity he exudes—a trait that defies expectation. Despite his limited physical violence on screen, Don eclipses some of cinema’s most notorious serial killers in sheer intimidation through relentless threats alone.
The genius of Don Logan lies in the portrayal by Ben Kingsley, best known for his portrayal of benevolent characters. In “Sexy Beast,” he metamorphoses into one of cinema’s iconic monsters.
“Sexy Beast,” Jonathan Glazer’s directorial debut, revolves around retired gangster “Gal” Dove, relishing his post-criminal life in Spain alongside his beloved wife and friends. This tranquil existence is disrupted by the arrival of Don Logan, a legendary enforcer, proposing a heist job on behalf of his boss. Despite Gal’s refusal, Don’s insistence triggers a series of tense confrontations at Gal’s residence.
What immediately strikes about Don is his lack of physical imposingness. He’s notably shorter and slender compared to Gal, defying the expected appearance of a mafia enforcer. Yet, he compensates for this physicality by containing an intense rage simmering beneath his demeanor. Although rarely resorting to physical violence, his verbal assaults are as scathing as R. Lee Ermey’s iconic performance in “Full Metal Jacket.” Don’s initial entrance into Gal’s life is a silent, menacing observation, instilling fear in everyone present. His mere presence compels those accustomed to gangster presence to falter, unable to make eye contact or maintain composure.
Interestingly, Don’s control extends beyond physical intimidation. He meticulously manipulates conversations, swiftly halting Gal’s swearing or injecting disruptive comments, keeping Gal off balance. Repetition becomes a tool for domination, exemplified in a memorable kitchen scene where Don forcefully demands Gal’s compliance, repeatedly asserting “yes” with a ferocity that corners Gal emotionally.
The power of Kingsley’s performance lies not solely in his mastery of psychological terror but also in unveiling Don’s aggression rooted not just in rage but in a wounded ego and fear of exposure. Moments of vulnerability reveal a multifaceted persona beneath the aggressive facade. In a private moment, while shaving, Don engages in a self-interrogation, oscillating between self-critique and reassurance, portraying a complex emotional turmoil. Kingsley’s seamless transition between self-reproach and self-assurance sheds light on Don’s inner turmoil, making his outbursts all the more discomforting.