The title sounds groaningly obvious, but instead of an intimation of organized crime's Biblical levels of barbarity, it's really just a mispronunciation of the name of the much-feared group at the center, the Camorra clan. The rest of Matteo Garrone's film similarly sidesteps grandiose statements in favor of a lean and brutal gangster-as-capitalist analysis that at its fiercest feels like a continuation of Francesco Rosi's caustic mafia exposés (Lucky Luciano, Illustrious Corpses). The dense, Naples-set narrative follows a quintet of parallel strands—from a teenager fighting to be inducted into the Camorra universe to a pair of young knuckleheads ill-advisedly trying to operate independently—which, taken together, reveal an order in which crime is not the underworld but, simply and bleakly, the world itself. An unrelentingly harsh view that, to its credit, never softens its focus a la Traffic or uses its violence for exploitative titillation a la City of God.  Fernando F. Croce