When will Guy Ritchie stop having to prove that he deserves his status as one of Britain’s leading directors? Well, first of all he has to produce something so monumentally excellent that everyone forgets his involvement in SWEPT AWAY- how easy it is to forget the impact of Ritchie’s first two major films. And how easy also to forget the innovations and the fantastically accomplished stylised cinematography in some truly impressive frenetic sequences.

It pains me to say it, but ROCKNROLLA just isn’t very good. It starts with the poor plot- it’s all so diabolically Guy RitchieTM that it’s less an actual narrative than a collection of recognisable Ritchie tropes (recognisable but unfortunately not good). It seems that Ritchie recognised in the relative success of SNATCH and LOCK, STOCK… a winning formula in the complex amalgam plot style, with various strains interlocking with apparently disastrous consequences. Basically, take a good old-fashioned ensemble movie, with the familiar swollen cast of characters (perhaps caricatures is a better word for Ritchie) and lace it with explosive charges. But the difference here is that Ritchie abandons his usually admirable plot building devices in favour of shoe-horning in his usual suspects- the wildly eccentric criminal, the impossible-to-kill Russians, the “I’m-so-fucking-witty” dialogue, and of course the unmistakable smell of cockles and muscles alive-alive-oh! In the final realisation it’s easy to pick out full characters and subplots that are hurriedly tied off in the desperate dash to find a suitably bloody sting in the end of the tale.

And what of his characters? Once again Ritchie can call upon the talents of an enviable cast, featuring the stylish gruffness of Mr 300 Gerard Butler, the intriguing and very watchable Toby Kebbell and the emerging talent of BRONSON’s Tom Hardy who plays tortured outsiders like noone else. He even has Mark Strong, one of the most underrated British actors working today as his narrator- his work on the TV adaptation of THE LONG FIRM was mesmerising- although to be honest he is underused in ROCKNROLLA, and the film suffers for it. The two most frustrating aspects of the cast are the weird cameo by Ludacris, or Chris Bridges as he is billed here (more of which later), but mostly the frankly horrifying performance by Tom Wilkinson, who is definitely more than channelling the spirit of Mike Reid (one of Ritchie’s former favourites). I defy anyone to show me any differences between Mr Frank Butcher and Tom Wilkinson’s “old-school gangster” Lenny Cole- the physical similarities are astounding, but crucially Wilkinson just doesn’t manage the same kind of presence. He is simply not believable as a gangster at all, and his forced menace and comical venom is just grating- instead of being a pillar of respect and aggression he comes across as a pompous old buffoon, full of bluster and hot-air, who simply would not have been able to command any kind of respect.

It isn’t merely that some of the characters are poorly acted- unfortunately abysmally is more of an appropriate term in conjunction with Tom Wilkinson’s appearance- it’s also that they have no real place in the universe that Ritchie does best. His grimy underworld is slightly absconded by the cut-throat world of real-estate, suspiciously familiar looking oligarchs (he’s even called Obromavich for fuck’s sake), corrupt councillors, and an immaculate femme-fatale in the breath-takingly gorgeous Thandie Newton. Each, but mostly Newton’s greedy accountant feel very at odds with the Ritchieland fans have come to know and love, which is a shame because her ice-cool uber-feminine demeanour is a pleasant departure from the blokiness of 90% of Ritchie’s casts.

Of course, there is a reading of ROCKNROLLA that deems it all about transition- the ousting of old-fashioned gangsters by wealthy immigrants with the bloody audacity to try their hand on someone else’s manor; the pseudo-feminist appearance of Newton; and the perceived corruption of masculinity by the threat of homosexuality. There are hints of institutionalised racism and bigoted prejudices against homosexuals- primarily in Butler’s appalled reaction to his best friend’s coming out and also in the frankly unnecessary portrayal of the scene in which the indestructible Russian Mafiosi strip to posing pouches and tie Butler’s One Two to the bed. Oh, the wicked things it seems they have planned- and, the suggestion is, their raunchy intentions would be a fate truly worse than death. Again, you have to wonder what Ritchie is trying to achieve; whether it is merely the presentation of perceived threat by new-comers to the old-order of underground London, or whether there is something darker there.

It is the attempted departure from Ritchie’s established canon of filmic conventions that guarantees the failure of the film overall- while Ritchie introduces these new character types, and readdresses the masculine bias of his films, but still refuses to move on from those sometimes stifling characteristics of his former glories he will never really succeed. Unfortunately it looks like Ritchie has run out of invention- his torture scenes even lack their usual zing- what the fuck he was thinking when he wrote the giant crayfish tank into the hastily cobbled together plot, only he knows.

One of my major gripes with Ritchie is his use of the cameo- at first it was pretty cute: casting Lenny Maclean and Vinnie Jones in LOCK, STOCK… was inspired, and Brad Pitt’s eventful turn in SNATCH undoubtedly stole the show, but cameos for cameos sake are tedious. It isn’t really an issue of them even being cameos in the traditional sense- it’s more of a gimmick: just like Andre 3000’s appearance in REVOLVER, the casting of LUDACRIS seems to be very “look-who-it-is”. Is Ritchie collecting quirky cast members? What exactly is he trying to prove?

I think someone has to address Ritchie’s cockney fixation as well- he depicts a London that is in no way favourable to the reality of the place- everyone is corruptible, the only real currencies are deceit and rugged charm (even if there remains a pretence that Honour is almighty), and torture and killing are necessities. ROCKNROLLA continues where SNATCH and LOCK, STOCK… left off, offering us Ritchie’s skewed, reverse-romantic depiction of Britain, heavily stylized and drastically removed from reality- I much prefer the gritty grimy Britain of Shane Meadows to the brash, balls out genuine cockerney geezerness of Ritchie’s. Where Meadows refuses to romanticise the criminality of the country and his flawed characters are still subject to a conventional moral universe (villains are killed, or grubby backgrounds are transcended), Ritchie prefers to offer us a sort of love-letter to sin (a Rom-Con). For this cinematic universe at least, crime is most definitely cool.

So, to repeat my first question, when will Guy Ritchie stop having to prove that he deserves his status as one of Britain’s leading directors? Not quite yet unfortunately. I can only hope it will be after his exciting looking take on SHERLOCK HOLMES hits the screens.

EXTRAS

Not exactly the best to say the least. One fucking deleted scene- I find it highly unlikely that this is the only thing that found the Editor’s floor, and from the look of it you have to question why Ritchie even put it in the original script let alone allow it to waste film. This is truly something that annoys me about Deleted Scene extras: if the film is so obviously better for the cut, and it wasn’t merely for issues of time or a painful and contested cut, then why do we need it included? My viewing experience is not enhanced by it- in fact its acknowledged existence merely highlights a terrible film-making decision.

Second is the mini-documentary looking at the film’s locations, why they were chosen and how modern London has changed, as told by Mr Ritchie himself- in a word, yawnucopia. I just don’t care- and I already know loads of Russians are ploughing their questionably gathered wealth into our fair capital, so I don’t really need a filmmaker telling me it.

There’s also a pretty bog-standard Commentary featuring Ritchie and narrator/actor Mark Strong- not really worth a listen unless you actively seek these things out, like I do, as it’s all just terribly self-congratulatory and frankly a little embarrassing. Hardly insightful.