No wonder Madonna divorced Guy Ritchie, a bloke who makes the most ungentlemanly movies possible. The Gentlemen more than proves the point. A Toxic Masculinity Opera, it’s full of dicks calling each other c*nts, when they’re not proffering racial putdowns. Methinks they try too hard. Compensating much?
Mark this down as lesser Ritchie, classic Ritchie though it may be. While of a piece with his rousing Sherlock Holmes and the visceral yet comedic violence of his Snatch, its reach well exceeds its grasp.
Part of the problem is a rare Matthew McConaughey misfire, his weirdly cool insouciance insufficient for an evil kingpin role. Christopher Walken he’s not. Ritchie surrounds him with other stars overacting, Hugh Grant most of all. A cool Charlie Hunnam & a foxy Michelle Dockery help, but can’t save the rancid stew.
Guy Ritchie is too good at his brand of showy-stagy testosterone operas. He should dial it back next time.
The nasty bon-mots grow tiresome, especially the repetitive use of the c-word, and I’m a dude. Women, stand clear.