Manner maketh man, as a certain character once said. And Guy Ritchie has turned The Gentlemen into a showcase for that undisputed truth. However, the same character also said that a villain's quality is crucial for the whole film's well-being, and that is where this movie falls flat on its bum.
The best Ritchie's films can be described in one sentence: a little triumph for a little guy. Lock & Stock, Snatch and even Rocknrolla are built about the fate of small-time people with quite limited prospects in life. Yes, they are clever, funny and often very lucky, but it's never a "rags to riches forever" story, more like a "rags to riches to probably lots of irrational spending and rags again" one. And that's what makes those films fun and protagonists relatable for the masses: we all enjoy seeing little men screw over big men once in a while, without becoming the evil they were destined to fight.
Here, however, we are supposed to sympathize with a big, very big man and his top minion. I agree that Matthew McConaughey is extremely charismatic and his vocal manner makes my ears melt in ecstasy, and that Charlie Hunnam looks quite the man with a full beard. But Ritchie invests so much into the "protagonist" side, yet leaves so little for the "antagonist" one. The "bad guys" are nether imposing nor cunning nor even well presented enough. You are inclined to root for the good guys because they are usually outnumbered and maybe even outgunned, but here there's no true sense of worthy confrontation, which makes you wish the "bush brothers" to break a leg in a literal, not a theatrical sense.
All this leaves us with one sad conclusion, that Guy Ritchie still knows how to do things in style but totally forgot how to bring in the substance (except the controlled ones of course, they are still aplenty). All this street gang stuff, fight porn and rap clips, and even the selfie time homage might be fun for those born on this side of the century, but for us old-timers the creative decline is quite obvious.
But even today's Ritchie could not have come without a single ace up his sleeve. Hugh Grant as a well-mannered, slightly over the hedge and a tad too clearly mancraving fox of a gentleman, is a true soul of this feature, a real reason to watch this film through. And at the end, he's the only one you truly wanna root for. Which is quite symbolic, because that's the very character who's practically begging for a sequel through what used to be the fourth wall. Don't know about y'all, but I'm interested only if they film what he's writing, kinky parts included.
The best Ritchie's films can be described in one sentence: a little triumph for a little guy. Lock & Stock, Snatch and even Rocknrolla are built about the fate of small-time people with quite limited prospects in life. Yes, they are clever, funny and often very lucky, but it's never a "rags to riches forever" story, more like a "rags to riches to probably lots of irrational spending and rags again" one. And that's what makes those films fun and protagonists relatable for the masses: we all enjoy seeing little men screw over big men once in a while, without becoming the evil they were destined to fight.
Here, however, we are supposed to sympathize with a big, very big man and his top minion. I agree that Matthew McConaughey is extremely charismatic and his vocal manner makes my ears melt in ecstasy, and that Charlie Hunnam looks quite the man with a full beard. But Ritchie invests so much into the "protagonist" side, yet leaves so little for the "antagonist" one. The "bad guys" are nether imposing nor cunning nor even well presented enough. You are inclined to root for the good guys because they are usually outnumbered and maybe even outgunned, but here there's no true sense of worthy confrontation, which makes you wish the "bush brothers" to break a leg in a literal, not a theatrical sense.
All this leaves us with one sad conclusion, that Guy Ritchie still knows how to do things in style but totally forgot how to bring in the substance (except the controlled ones of course, they are still aplenty). All this street gang stuff, fight porn and rap clips, and even the selfie time homage might be fun for those born on this side of the century, but for us old-timers the creative decline is quite obvious.
But even today's Ritchie could not have come without a single ace up his sleeve. Hugh Grant as a well-mannered, slightly over the hedge and a tad too clearly mancraving fox of a gentleman, is a true soul of this feature, a real reason to watch this film through. And at the end, he's the only one you truly wanna root for. Which is quite symbolic, because that's the very character who's practically begging for a sequel through what used to be the fourth wall. Don't know about y'all, but I'm interested only if they film what he's writing, kinky parts included.