You know the story. Or you think you do. Two brothers from the East End, sharp suits, heavy rings, and a reputation that still makes people in Bethnal Green lower their voices. But honestly, most of the movies we get about Ronnie and Reggie Kray are basically fairy tales with more blood.
Then came along The Rise of the Krays in 2015.
It didn't have the $25 million budget of Legend. It didn't have Tom Hardy playing against himself in a masterclass of CGI and chin-acting. What it did have was a weirdly uncomfortable, grimy energy that felt a lot closer to the damp streets of 1950s London than anything Hollywood could cook up. If you've ever wondered why this specific film still pops up in your recommendations or why it feels so different from the polished biopics, you’re in the right place.
Why The Rise of the Krays hits different
Most people forget that 2015 was the "Year of the Kray." It was a total blitz. You had this movie, the sequel The Fall of the Krays, the documentary The Kill Order, and the big-budget Legend all hitting within months of each other. Talk about overkill.
But while Legend was busy being a "cool" gangster movie, director Zackary Adler went the other way. He didn't want you to like these guys. The Rise of the Krays is kinda brutal. It portrays the twins as "horrible pieces of work," which, let’s be real, is historically more accurate.
The film covers the early years. We're talking the 50s transition from amateur boxing to full-blown protection rackets. It’s the period where they weren't yet celebrities hanging out with Judy Garland; they were just local thugs with a terrifying amount of ambition.
The casting gamble that actually worked
Instead of one actor doing double duty, we got Simon Cotton as Ronnie and Kevin Leslie as Reggie.
It was a bold move. Most people expected a disaster without a "name" lead. But Cotton’s performance as Ronnie is... well, it’s intense. Some critics at the time called it hammy, but if you look at the real Ronnie Kray—a man who was eventually diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia and had a penchant for spontaneous, explosive violence—Cotton’s "bonkers" energy actually makes sense.
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Reggie, played by Leslie, is the foil. He’s the "sane" one, or at least he’s better at pretending. The film leans into that dynamic: Reggie trying to build a business empire while Ronnie keeps trying to start a war.
What the movie gets right (and what it ignores)
Let’s talk about the history for a second. The film focuses heavily on the "Firm" and the sheer intimidation factor. You see Reggie’s famous "cigarette punch"—handing a guy a smoke and then shattering his jaw while he's distracted. That’s a real detail. It’s the kind of nasty, efficient violence that built their legend.
However, the film makes some interesting choices:
- The Mother Figure: In the 1990 movie The Krays, Violet Kray (played by Billie Whitelaw) is the sun the twins orbit around. In The Rise of the Krays, Nicola Stapleton plays her, but she’s mostly seen in flashbacks. It strips away the "mummy’s boys" trope and focuses on the street-level thuggery.
- Ronnie’s Sexuality: This is a big one. Ronnie was openly bisexual at a time when that was basically social suicide, especially in the underworld. While other films lean into his relationships with politicians and peers, this movie stays pretty focused on the violence and the "business."
- The Gritty Factor: The budget was low. You can see it in the sets. But strangely, the smallness of the film makes it feel more claustrophobic and authentic. You feel the grime of the East End.
The "Fall" was always coming
One thing you’ve gotta understand is that The Rise of the Krays wasn't meant to stand alone. It’s the first half of a diptych. Because the filmmakers had so much ground to cover—from the post-war boxing gyms to the eventual 1968 arrests—they split the story.
The sequel, The Fall of the Krays, arrived just a few months later.
Honestly, the first one is the stronger film. It captures that momentum, that feeling of two guys who think they’re untouchable. By the time you get to the sequel, the paranoia starts to set in. The cracks in the empire are showing. It gets darker, slower, and way more depressing.
Why does this film still matter in 2026?
We’re still obsessed with the Krays. It’s weird. They weren't even the most successful criminals in London’s history—the Richardsons were arguably more powerful and definitely more organized. But the Krays had the look. They had the twin thing.
The Rise of the Krays matters because it refuses to glamorize them. It doesn't give you the "Robin Hood" myth that the twins spent their later years in prison trying to cultivate. It shows them as bullies.
If you're watching it for the first time, don't expect The Godfather. It’s a low-budget British indie. It’s loud, it’s bloody, and it’s occasionally a bit rough around the edges. But as a character study of how two brothers terrorized a city, it’s surprisingly effective.
Actionable Insights for Fans and Researchers
If you're diving into the Kray lore through this film, here is how to get the most out of the experience:
- Watch the Double Feature: Don't just stop at The Rise. The story is incomplete without The Fall. They were filmed back-to-back and are meant to be seen as one four-hour epic.
- Read the Source Material: If you want to know what's real, check out The Profession of Violence by John Pearson. He actually knew them. You’ll see exactly where the film took liberties and where it stayed true to the madness.
- Contrast with Legend: Watch the Tom Hardy version afterward. It’s a fascinating exercise in how different directors interpret the same "facts." One is a tragedy; the other is a dark comedy.
- Look for the "Nipper" Reed details: Danny Midwinter plays the detective Nipper Reed in the Adler films. Pay attention to how the police are portrayed as being just as relentless and, at times, just as frustrated as the criminals they were chasing.
The Krays are a permanent part of London's DNA. Whether you love the genre or hate it, The Rise of the Krays offers a window into a version of the 1960s that wasn't all about the Beatles and Carnaby Street. It was about power, fear, and the blood spilled to keep it.