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Revolver I don't think I've been so torn about a film as I have with Guy Ritchie's new film, Revolver. A work of genius and flawed, frustrating mind fuck by turns, with neither side taking the upper hand by the time the movie grinds to a halt. Those expecting a Snatch (2000) or Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels (1998) part two will be in for a shock, despite the presence of Ritchie regular Jason Statham.
Snatch and Lock, Stock kick-started the British gangster movie revival, and saw dozens of wannabe movies of variable quality follow in their wake. Ritchie was mercilessly kicked when he tried to move out of the genre with his remake of Swept Away (2002), and critics and armchair pundits alike quickly forgot just how original and snappy those first two features were, lumping his movies in with pap like Rancid Aluminium (2000) and The Business (2005).
After disappearing for a couple of years, it would make sense for Ritchie to return to his roots, creating one of his tightly-plotted crime capers, full of zingy one-liners and cartoon ultraviolence, re-establishing himself as the king of genre before having a second crack at moving on. And initially that's what the viewer may think he's doing with Revolver, but things aren't quite what they seem.
The movie begins with oily-haired and permanently unshaven Jake Green (Jason Statham) being released from prison after doing seven years in solitary for a crime he didn't commit. He's a talented gambler and soon amasses a small fortune, creating an enemy of his nemesis and casino owner Macha (Ray Liotta) who decides to have him killed. On his way out of Macha's casino, Green suddenly collapses and is diagnosed with a rare blood disease giving him only a few days to live. Mysterious, chess playing debt collectors Avi (André 3000) and Zach (Vincent Pastore) say they can help Green, but on two conditions: he must give them all of his money and he must answer any question they ask of him. Thinking that he's being conned somehow, he gets a second opinion on his illness which appears to confirm he's dying. With nothing to lose, he decides to play along, all the time suspicious that he's being set up.
Meanwhile, Macha has taken a shipment of drugs from the mysterious and powerful Sam Gold, only to have the drugs stolen by Avi and Zach. Desperate not appear out of control, he agrees to buy new drugs from a Chinese gangster called Lord John. However, his money and Lord John's drugs are again stolen by the Machiavellian Avi and Zach. Macha and Lord John suspect the other of the crime and wage a war of revenge.
It's at this point that the movie lurches into perplexing weirdness, although sharp-eyed viewers will have noticed that things have been a little odd from the start: the undefined location that could be almost anywhere, the twelve-dollar bills, the unfounded fear of the elevator. Discussions of plot become meaningless from here on in and the movie opens itself up to a variety of interpretations.
Ritchie has gambled high on Revolver, and he nearly pulls it off. But instead of creating a thought-provoking film as strange as anything David Lynch has created, he's produced a bewildering dark forest of a movie that is virtually impenetrable thanks to an opaque and elliptical final reel. Possible influences include The Usual Suspects (1995) Tarantino's Kill Bill (2003/2004) and the works of Peter Greenaway. One exegesis of the movie might include Fight Club (1999) as a source of inspiration, but it depends how you read the movie.
On the plus side, the movie's art direction (by Grant Armstrong and Sam Stokes) and cinematography (by Tim Maurice-Jones, who shot Lock, Stock and Snatch) is impressively lush and sophisticated. Ritchie proves himself a master of imaginatively framed shots and tight sequences (such as when stammering hit man Sorter, played by the excellent Mark Strong, goes on a rampage). The violence is suitably messy—not the cartoon violence of his first movies—and the sound designers have given the weaponry an impressive, visceral kick. Statham is given plenty of opportunity to demonstrate that he can act and that he's not just a martial arts expert with an East End accent. Vincent Pastore, too, shows that there's more to him than being a mafia goon and Ray Liotta is delicious as the stressed-out Macha, wide-eyed and wired, acting for all he's worth.
When all the elements come together, Revolver is cinematic brilliance. The trouble is, those moments come in fits and starts, especially towards the end, just when the movie could use them most. It's an almost European art-house flick that contains wilfully confusing metaphysical strands as Avi and Zach take Green on an Alice-in-Wonderland journey of violence and twisted mind games.
The revolver of the title could refer to the handguns used in the film, or, more likely, the slowly spiralling storyline that loops back on itself, unravelling in the process. Revolver is going to divide and frustrate its audience and leave them blinking at the screen, wondering if both Guy Ritchie and his film have lost the plot.
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