Ever since he followed up his breakthrough Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels with Snatch, director Guy Ritchie’s been accused of repeating himself. It was easier to ignore then, as Snatch was a Hollywood-slick refinement of the scrappy Lock, Stock, but Rocknrolla is one trip too many to a nearly dry well.
The film begins with one of Ritchie’s trademark hyper-expository opening sequences, which once seemed like a neat stylistic trick, but now feels more like a crutch. Granted, given the director’s approach to characters (why flesh out one when you can give clever nicknames to a dozen), a 15-minute burst of hard-rock-backed narration is probably the quickest way to get to the point. That point, once again, is that street toughs are badass, and remarkable coincidences are way cooler than plausible plot developments.
The plot revolves around Archie (Mark Strong), top flunky for Lenny Cole (Tom Wilkinson), an old-school mobster with his fingers in every land development deal in London. Lenny’s hit the big time thanks to a lucrative deal with some shady Russians, but he’s lost the Russian boss’s lucky painting, and all of his luck disappears with it. Archie’s tasked with finding it, a process that will involve street-level hood One Two (Gerard Butler), sexy accountant Stella (Thandie Newton) and Pete Dougherty-like rock ’n’ roller Johnny Quid (Toby Kebbell), a junkie with the soul of a poet and a penchant for faking his own death.
The cast clearly enjoys chewing the scenery, but that doesn’t translate into memorable performances. Actually, Jeremy Piven and Ludacris are memorable in their roles as Johnny Quid’s record producers, but only for how terrible their performances are. Piven in particular gives a cringe-worthy, career-worst performance.
There are some exciting sequences, greatly assisted by a pounding rock soundtrack, but even the most inspired moments are borrowed from Richie’s previous films. An extended chase featuring two nigh-immortal Russian toughs goes to ridiculous lengths. They’re pretty much the same characters as Boris the Bullet-Dodger in Snatch, except, y’know, two of him. The sex scene between Newton and Butler is good for a quick laugh, but its rapid-cut approach is identical to the travel scenes in Snatch. It’s all well and good for a director to develop a style, but when it’s as ostentatious as Ritchie’s, it threatens to grate with repeated use.
If Ritchie had never made a movie, or if he’d only made the critically maligned Swept Away and Revolver, Rocknrolla might work as a pleasant surprise. As it is, it’s further ammunition for those who accuse the director of eschewing substance for style.
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