As THE IRISHMAN begins the home stretch to the Oscars are you in need of another mob movie fix? Like Scorsese, this director has a history of flicks about the “thug life” featuring guys and goons that can “lean” on anybody that gets in the way. Well, this is one quite a bit different as it’s not set on the mean streets of East Coast USA, but rather in swinging (like a pendulum do’) London, so it’s got an international flavor. Plus this flick expands past Picadilly into the country estates and castles (hitmen at Downton Abbey. oh dear). So it involves the elite, but people who don’t fret about getting blood spilled on those custom-tailored suits and gowns. Yet, somehow most of the world believes that these “goodfellas'” can still be called THE GENTLEMEN.
After a brief flashforward involving one of the plot principals, the story really begins on a dark night as Ray (Charlie Hunnan) discovers a most unwelcome visitor lurking in the shadows of his plush home. It’s a sleazy P.I. named Fletcher (Hugh Grant) and he’s got a business offer. He’s just finished a job for “Big” Dave (Eddie Marsan), editor of the popular tabloid the Daily Print, digging up lots of “dirt’ on Ray’s boss, “cannabis king” Mickey Pearson (Matthew McConaughey). But Ray can buy it all from Fletcher before it sees print. Of course, Ray needs a hint at what he’d be buying. We get the backstory on Mick: born to poor parents in Florida, USA he wins a Rhodes Scholarship at Oxford, where he balances his studies with a lucrative pot-selling “side hustle”. He amasses a “weed” empire, deciding to put down roots in the UK by marrying the gorgeous Rosalind (Michelle Dockery). They rub elbows with the highest of high society, which answers one of the mysteries about him. Namely, where does he grow and produce his “primo” product”? He attracts the attention of another rich Yank, Matthew Berger (Jeremy Strong), who intends to buy the operation. Luckily Mickey wants to start a family, so after naming a hefty price tag he lets Berger in on the big secret. Mickey has made deals with the cash-strapped “upper-elites” (the Earls, Lords, etc.) to set up underground greenhouses on their secured properties. Mickey even takes Matthew to visit one. Then word leaks out about Mickey’s retirement. An ambitious young mobster from the East, Dry Eye (Henry Golding) makes an offer that’s is quickly rejected by Mickey. Then that secret “bush” locale is hit by a bunch of young thugs. Throw in a tough boxing coach named, well, Coach (Colin Farrell), and the drug-addled daughter of royalty, and it’s starting to look as though Mickey will never “get out”. But just how much evidence does Fletcher have? And will Ray convince his boss to buy it?
A stellar cast has been assembled for this crime caper with Oscar-winner McConaughey front and center as the American who’s just as sophisticated and cultured as any of the native brits (well, really more so than most in this tale). He seems to be channeling more of this TV ad persona (you’ve seen those baffling car ad in which he’s featured) than most of his screen work (Mickey is almost the inverse of the yahoos in GOLD, MAGIC MIKE, and even DALLAS BUYERS CLUB). He’s smooth as silk, only creasing his GQ ensembles when someone disrespects him. Or when he’s around his wife. Much like Gomez in THE ADDAMS FAMILY his Mickey is hopelessly enamored of the ravishing Rosalyn played with a smoldering tough sensibility by Dockery, who seems ecstatic to be out of the Downton finery. Another “happy camper” is Grant who can barely contain his joy in being cast as the skeevy, pervy (his threats to Ray are mixed with aggressive flirtations) private eye. He flits about the screen like a mischievous imp as he spins a tale of double-crossing and deceit. Farrell is quite entertaining as the gruff, no-nonsense Coach who only gets his hands dirty in order to protect his beloved “lads”. Speaking of dirtying your hands, Goulding appears to relish his turn as the scowling, always plotting Dry Eye, who seethes as he’s denied a seat at the “adults’ table”. Strong scores as the somewhat foppish (not quite the fashion plate as Mickey), but dangerously brilliant (at least two steps ahead) Berger. And as Mickey’s #1, Hunnam is everything you’d want in a right-hand man, though he’s got a real cleanliness mania, whether it’s Fletcher removing his shoes or having to go into a high-rise drug “nest”. Filth is this tough guy’s Kryptonite.
This flick marks sort of a homecoming, or at least a return to his roots, of director Guy Ritchie, who also wrote the screenplay with a story assist from Ivan Atkinson and Marn Davies. In the dozen years since ROCKNROLLA Ritchie has bounced about from the RDJ Sherlock HOLMES franchise, to franchise wannabe THE MAN FROM U.N.C.L.E., to the darned near-unwatchable KING ARTHUR: LEGEND OF THE SWORD, to last Summer’s fairly sanitized ALADDIN (though not the worst of the live-action reboots). He’s back in his “comfort zone” and his “home turf” as he keeps the action zipping briskly along while throwing us many unexpected curves and bits of inspired hilarity (Old MacDonald will never sound the same). Ritchie even throws in some satiric jabs at his own profession as Fletcher indulges his own cinematic aspirations (he includes a screenplay in his blackmail package). And he still has a taste for film making flourishes, slowing down the actions, speeding scenes in reverse, along with creating a rap music YouTube street-fighting video. Sure he still peppers the script with “F-bombs” (and being in the UK there are “C-bombs”) and blood, though he saves the gore to make the most impact. And there’s even a nice tribute to the recently departed, much-missed “Mr. Creosote”. Needless to say, the fancy mansion and wardrobes are quite dazzling. To sum things up, THE GENTLEMEN is an unpredictable, most welcome return to the lowlife and high-class law-breakers in Guy Ritchie’s London underworld.
3 Out of 4
