RocknRolla Review

RocknRolla Review

At the end of Guy Richie’s new film, there is a threat, or promise, depending on how you felt about the preceeding two hours, that the Wild Bunch will return, Bond style, in ‘The Real RocknRolla.’ Richie himself has promised a trilogy with the same characters which may be a good thing as a lot of them deserved more screen time, and a lot of plot strands were left hanging . Of course many would argue that the film feels like the final chapter to a trilogy already. One that started with Lock Stock and Two Smoking Barrels, and continued with Snatch, which also represented not by coincidence his most popular steak with audiences . After the trip and fall experiments of Swept Away(never work with children, animals or your marriage partner, see Far and Away or Love, Honour and Obey for further evidence) and Revolver, Richie is back on his old stomping ground of comedy monickered wideboys and villains, cartoon violence and like Lock Stock, a maguffin, in this case a painting that has everyone chasing it, but only serves to expose the real issue, that of an informer in their midst.

So this is Richie back to doing what he does best, and what British audiences at least like him doing best. RocknRolla was a healthy hit in the UK last year. Sadly Americans hardly got a chance to judge on a big screen as Warner’s yet again decided to pull advertising and show their lack of belief in a perfectly good film by opening in a limited number of theatres, and shopping it around for others to buy- describing it as a good little film but too English. Having said that, without the star wattage of a Brad Pitt, it is doubtful that it would have achieved the same success as Snatch, then again it does seem an insult that at this point in his career, Richie has to suffer this indignation, and remember Slumdog Millionaire, another return to favoured issues by an established British critical and cult darling also suffered the same fate at the hands of Warners, but at least had a happy ending in that instance.

Even critics seemed to have warmed to Richie’s return to all things Mockney, rather than chastise him for combing over old ground, and indeed this is not someone basking in the dimming glow of old glories or going through the motions. Comparing the new film to Lock Stock, is rather like comparing the Beatles of Rubber Soul to those animated young men playing mainly covers in a Hamburg cavern. Richie has matured, this is a studious forty year old chuckling at his own jokes while enjoying a whiskey or two, rather than the brash, in your face thirty year old running down the street, brandishing a beer bottle and shouting at the top of his lungs. Visually, Richie has never been better, his skills in direction, editing and framing outstripping his story ideas if anything. As a scriptwriter you can’t help thinking he needs a disciplined collaborator to sharpen or discard some ideas, such as the almost 70s sitcom attitude to character’s gayness.

Of the performances, Tom Wilkinson’s Lenny stands out, although painted in comically broader strokes than necessary, a bigger wallop would have been provided in the denouement by someone more like Michael Gambon in Layer Cake. Mark Strong hopefully will be a carry over to the sequel with his simmering Archie, and it may not be a coincidence that the film ends with the two most interesting characters, him and Johnny Quid talking about the future. Quid, played by Toby Kebbell is equal parts as annoying as hell, and superb, especially in a scene where he provides wish fulfillment for anyone whose been mistreated by a club bouncer. The rest of the cast are all good, if less memorable, often finding themselves at the end of plotlines left in mid air, which may simply be a case of curtailed trilogy arc. Of course, if Richie, currently shooting Sherlock Holmes, never bothers returning to the story, this lack of closure may become more irritating as time goes on. Thadie Newton’s role like her character, so maybe that’s the point, is all tease and no climax, or at least a hastily rushed one, literally. Also, for someone who seems to be the intended leading man, Gerald Butler as One Two, and Elba and Hardy, as Mumbles and Handsome Bob, his loyal sidekicks, are probably the most nondescript so far of Richie’s cheeky protagonist gangs. Infact, after Wilkinson, Kebbell and Strong, you probably have to go all the way down the cast list to Jimi Mistry, as a totally corrupt counsillor for another actor having fun with their part, but not at the audience’s expense.

Of course the film has its moments, a prolonged foot chase that turns slowly from slapstick comedy to almost waking nightmare when Butler can’t shake off the Russians security springs to mind, but Rocknrolla has the strange accolade of making you invest in the characters while also feeling slightly unsatisfied with how they end up. It’s almost as though Richie is throwing away his old toys, and muting himself to show that substance and gravitas are more important than being flash. This is a great sentiment to have but a little bit more flash would have been nice. Notice for instance that none of the violence is shown, only its consequences on the characters. If Richie is the closest England has to a Tarantino, and his style as recognizable, then this is his Jackie Brown. And that is both a praise and criticism. One thing is for sure though, no one is going to spoof Rocknrolla like Adam and Joe did with their toy version of Snatch, called Twat, featuring Vinnie Hooligan and Jim’ll the Fix( a thinly disguised Jimmy Saville as stuffed Poodle). Whether this is because Richie has grown up or lost his relevance, will probably be a debate that rages on unconclusively. 7/10 The Si