Part of the Tough Years of Our Lives genre (peace noir), expanding on the troubles that befell returning servicemen (The-Breaking-Point Stray-Dog I-Became-a-Criminal Where-the-Sidewalk-Ends) and families of those heroes who did not. Such is the story in Cosh-Boy, so titled because the fatherless male lead, played memorably by James Kenney as a juvenile delinquent and major headache to his doting mother (Davies), has a flair for fashion as was the trend among spiffier ruffians in 1950s England, cosh itself, slang for the pocket-club 'Master Crooks' use on victims to quickly cough up their possessions.
Born a gangster (Little-Caesar The-Public-Enemy), the JD boomed post-War, discovered drugs in the 60s and is now mired in hip hop for what seems an eternity. The film's purpose was always the same: expose the problems and depict the punishment. Rebel-Without-A-Cause (55) would change all of that. On a big Warner Bros' budget (Cinema-scope), the tone turned more sympathetic as parents bore the blame ("This is Judy, she's my friend") on beveled themes where the bad boy (Dean) is a drama major ("You're tearing me apart!") but possessing of a sarcastic wit ("I love you, too {Judy}"), plenty o' pluck (knife fight) and a big heart (Pluto), more likeable than twisted Roy who, as the period still dictated, devolves into pathetic. Most notable for being an early Joan Collins vehicle, looking as comely as young Elizabeth Taylor had ten years prior, and for its exploration of risqué themes that include gang violence, suggestions of mother-son incest, self-induced abortion, discipline and underage sex. It is that terror coupling where a girl is scared because she is trapped, then, le voilà, discovers her feelings of passion, that likely earned the film its X-rating from British Board of Censors and an outright ban in Sweden. It's not Rebel, but as JD noirs go, Cosh-Boy is a good one (3/4).
Born a gangster (Little-Caesar The-Public-Enemy), the JD boomed post-War, discovered drugs in the 60s and is now mired in hip hop for what seems an eternity. The film's purpose was always the same: expose the problems and depict the punishment. Rebel-Without-A-Cause (55) would change all of that. On a big Warner Bros' budget (Cinema-scope), the tone turned more sympathetic as parents bore the blame ("This is Judy, she's my friend") on beveled themes where the bad boy (Dean) is a drama major ("You're tearing me apart!") but possessing of a sarcastic wit ("I love you, too {Judy}"), plenty o' pluck (knife fight) and a big heart (Pluto), more likeable than twisted Roy who, as the period still dictated, devolves into pathetic. Most notable for being an early Joan Collins vehicle, looking as comely as young Elizabeth Taylor had ten years prior, and for its exploration of risqué themes that include gang violence, suggestions of mother-son incest, self-induced abortion, discipline and underage sex. It is that terror coupling where a girl is scared because she is trapped, then, le voilà, discovers her feelings of passion, that likely earned the film its X-rating from British Board of Censors and an outright ban in Sweden. It's not Rebel, but as JD noirs go, Cosh-Boy is a good one (3/4).