In an era of filmmaking where any halfwit can deduce a movie’s entire plot from a single teaser trailer, it’s a refreshing to learn that “44 Inch Chest” is not at all it seems. Especially after its preview, an “Ocean’s Eleven” master-plan prototype with a predictable sense of wit, made it out to be a token dark comedy.

In fact, freshman director Malcolm Venville knows exactly what kind of film it is; he just won’t tell us right away. Ray Winstone (“The Departed”) shines as Colin, a man whose life is left in pieces after his wife informs him she’s leaving their 21-year marriage to run away with another man.

While he’s shocked with distraught, Colin’s friends whip out a surefire plan: kidnap his wife’s lover so Colin can exact his revenge.

It’s up to his motley crew — Meredith (Ian McShane), the gay, smarmy swindler; Archie (Tom Wilkinson), who still lives with his mom; and Peanut (John Hurt), the homophobic old-timer — to do the deed. As a safety net for a cuckolded Colin, the trio gives him an outlet for his grief: a bottle or two of brandy and one fettered Frenchman. That’s what friends are for, right?

Winstone is the gem of the film. Though he wears the hard exterior of a man long burdened by brutish labor, he often collapses with heartwrenching grief, delivering lines like “Love is a garden, and you have to weed it to keep it beautiful” with cheeseless sincerity. He earns our sympathy again and again, only to toss it aside as Colin’s dark inner turmoil rises to the surface, fearlessly warding us off with his black and deadened stare.

Venville keeps the film — a manifestation of Colin’s rolling emotions — from tipping into one stock genre or another. The main character is too dark to be comedic, his gang too cavalierly oddball for the serious crime genre and the setting too singular for an action flick. “Chest” is the definition of successful anti-formula — surprising us from fade in to fade out, never waxing forced or contrived. Just try to guess what happens next.