Director Donal MacIntyre seems to have only one story within him, and he tells it repeatedly, each time glorifying and sensationalizing the events and characters a little bit more than the last, as if that’s what will suddenly put butts in seats. His latest documentary on Dominic Noonan, Britain’s most notorious gangster, superfluously named A Very British Gangster, is just the newest chapter in his so-called book of expertise on the subject. MacIntyre plays out all of his childhood gangster-hero fantasies through the life of his subject.

Hailing from Dublin himself, MacIntyre has much more at stake in his tale of the Irish mob’s reign over an impoverished inner city sect of Manchester than just a journalist’s duty to report the story. His need to spread the word is almost desperate, like a child on the verge of being indoctrinated into a gang and proud of the initiation task he accomplished; he feels he must share with any sympathetic ears that come his way. He and Noonan are interchangeable in this facet of their personalities: both men are all about recognition.

MacIntyre’s camera follows Noonan and his cronies as they loom through the dark and squalid streets with such intimate access, the audience can’t help but wonder just how close he is to these thugs. Noonan gives MacIntyre and his audience an oddly unsettling tour of the neighborhood over which he presides, and each memory--nay, each mere sentence--drips with narcissistic joy. But though the audience can’t help but be disgusted (especially when common tales include the beheading of a rival’s dog just to prove a point), MacIntyre seems anything but.

Through a series of interviews set up at bars, laughing over beers, MacIntyre gets Noonan to tell the stories of his escapades like two old friends reminiscing about the “good ole days.” His documentary is much more an insane press piece promoting Noonan than anything else. In fact, he stages some very reality-show like tactics, such as literally following Noonan from behind and tracking the camera around him in a one-eighty as he overlooks “his” domain. The cinematography, which leaves something to be desired, comes off as an attempt to show Noonan as just another “one of the guys;” he could be your ninth grade biology teacher, your next-door neighbor or your distant uncle…he just happens to be a criminal. With four separate people (MacIntyre included) credited as cinematographers, it’s really no wonder each scene is composed differently from the last, making the end result uncomfortable, incohesive and amateurish.

Another reality-show constant--on-screen subtitles--proves to be more distracting than helpful when placed over extreme close-ups of Noonan. MacIntyre was most likely just worried Noonan’s thick accent would be too hard to understand and that’s why he employed such a device, but in actuality, subtitles are quite welcomed, because while viewers are fixing their gaze on them, they are granted a nice break from staring into the smug mug of a killer.

Unlike countless true crime documentaries before it, A Very British Gangster is hard to watch not just for the retelling of the atrocities but because the tone in doing so is one of admiration. MacIntyre lingers on the snazzy suits Noonan has issued as an almost uniform for his men, setting them apart from just your usual street thugs, and he shows his excitement when Noonan is consistently cleared of charges for which he stands trial. It’s as if he’s goading the audience with how slick his subject is and bragging that he shares the man’s company.

A Very British Gangster drags on as a film, and at one point Noonan offers what he has worked out in his own mind to be a completely rational explanation for his mobster lifestyle. Speaking with a wry grin, Noonan is half-taunting MacIntyre or someone in the audience to challenge his way of thinking--but no one does because the man at the helm of this film is so utterly enamored with Noonan he lets the words echo like they are a sermon. It’s hard to know who is the most atrocious character during moments like this.

The one redeeming quality about A Very British Gangster is its soundtrack, which is composed of strong urban beats that mirror the suspense in such an underground world. A Very British Gangster, therefore, may be worth listening to, but you can skip watching it.

A Very British Gangster is now playing at the Culver Plaza 6 in Culver City.

For more information, visit britishgangster.com.