"Clubbed" is yet another 'will-this-do?' entry into the Brit fisticuffs genre and is sure to keep punters who aren't expecting too much moderately entertained for ninety minutes after a few beers. However, for anyone seeking intelligent, quality entertainment it's really best avoided.
There are so many misnomers in the appalling script that even an actor of the calibre of Colin Salmon is left looking daft. The action is set in the 1980s, but it's never clear why, especially when they haven't been able to pull off any convincing feel for that decade - it takes more than a few 80s soul records on the soundtrack, the occasional zoot suit and a handful of 30-year-old cars. Then we see central characters studying texts such as Sun Tzu's "The Art Of War" and speaking about how violence should be a last resort, while the same characters seem only too willing to start doling out punches with all the testosterone-fuelled, unthinking abandon of a bunch of chavs fighting over a bag of chips.
Character development does not exist in "Clubbed". Nor does irony, subtlety or pathos. This is a film which trades on fond memories of Guy Richie's early gangster films, which despite their flaws certainly had much more wit, better editing, snappier dialogue and packed more emotional punch than this limp little saga. They're a decade old now, anyway - isn't it time we moved on from trying to emulate them?
There are so many misnomers in the appalling script that even an actor of the calibre of Colin Salmon is left looking daft. The action is set in the 1980s, but it's never clear why, especially when they haven't been able to pull off any convincing feel for that decade - it takes more than a few 80s soul records on the soundtrack, the occasional zoot suit and a handful of 30-year-old cars. Then we see central characters studying texts such as Sun Tzu's "The Art Of War" and speaking about how violence should be a last resort, while the same characters seem only too willing to start doling out punches with all the testosterone-fuelled, unthinking abandon of a bunch of chavs fighting over a bag of chips.
Character development does not exist in "Clubbed". Nor does irony, subtlety or pathos. This is a film which trades on fond memories of Guy Richie's early gangster films, which despite their flaws certainly had much more wit, better editing, snappier dialogue and packed more emotional punch than this limp little saga. They're a decade old now, anyway - isn't it time we moved on from trying to emulate them?