4. Scum (1979)
Nowadays, Ray Winstone is that loveable cockney chap who pops up with a giant hologramatic version of himself to tell you the betting odds of a football match. But in 1977 his sporting prowess was somewhat different when he turned two snooker balls in a sock into a thing of horrific beauty, and put anyone under the age of 21 off a life of crime. Originally a TV play that was 'too shocking' to be broadcast, Scum told the story of young men in borstal - prisons for ne'er do well youngsters. And what a story. Stabbings, punch ups, razor blades, sexual assaults, more punch ups, suicides, sadistic warders, extra punch ups with the odd kick to the nether regions added in - if this didn't put you off naughtiness, then there really wasn't much hope for you. Brutal and full of the nastiest looking nutters you've ever seen (it's making that Magaluf stag-do pop up in my head again), Scum painted a miserable picture of institutionalised life that wins it 'Best description of a film by it's one word title' in my book. The whole place reeked of 70's misery with it's seemingly endless Grange Hill style corridors, only without Roland Browning for comic relief.
The snookerball-swinging Raymondo (two reds by the way, he didn't even think about a higher scoring colour) wreaking revenge on a henchman and then top dog in the establishment, is a force of nutjob nature. It's topped off with the iconic declaration of "I'm the daddy now!", the phrase I'm most looking forward to re-using when my first child is born. Only without the hosiery/sporting equipment combo of course.