GUY RITCHIE RECENTLY admitted that he’s
an ideas man. He enjoys being
thrust into a whippy concoction of ‘big-thinking’;
mysticism, ideology, theology, philosophy… (he opens Revolver
with quotes from Machiavelli, Julius Cesar, a Chess Master, and, um… a
Banker) and he also admits that he rarely finishes any book he reads.
Too caught up in his own imagination to allow himself to follow through
with the story. Coincidently, that’s exactly what happens with
Revolver.
If we look back to 1998, everything was peachy for Ritchie; his film Lock, Stock & Two
Smoking Barrels became the third largest grossing film in Britain ever. It also
heralded a critical renaissance to the British Gangster film, following later
with Snatch; appealing both to weekend hooligans (those who graffiti bus stops)
and your common cinemagoer alike. Ritchie was celebrated for his visual resplendencey
and witty, acerbic narrative. He even made a moviestar out of Vinnie Jones (a.k.a.
X Men III’s Juggernaut). Then came Swept Away, bringing with it a tsunami
of Madonna-flavoured critical bile, drowning its box-office appeal and eventually
dribbling out with a straight-to-video UK release.
Revolver was Ritchie’s chance to make ‘em pay. A potentially triumphant
home-coming for the King of the Mockneys, suavely slamming heads in car doors,
racing ‘dags’, and serenely ironing copious amounts of cash for the
producers. Except it didn’t and it wasn’t. Revolver was instead received
with little more than aggravated head-scratching and utter bewilderment. Ritchie
claimed that both Lock, Stock… and Snatch took about three months to write,
whereas Revolver took a year and a half. It might have given some clue to how
multifarious he was intending to be.
The basic premise is thus; a too-cool-for-school-yet-highly-lucrative-gambler
named Jake Greene (Jason Statham) is sent to prison for seven years (his decree
is reduced from fourteen years as he opts for solitary) after a gambling stunt
goes wrong. There his tiny white cell is placed between those of a chess master
and a master thief; whom have little else to do than think outside the box (pun
intended) and plan ‘the ultimate con’. Greene intercepts the two’s
consultations, and quietly becomes their apprentice. However, after completing
his sentence, Green is told he has but three days to live. Thereafter, Green
is introduced to two mysterious loan sharks, Avi (André Benjamin)
and Zach (Vincent Pastore) who claim they can keep him alive…
What’s going on from there is anyone’s guess; as the title Revolver
refers not to a big-shiny gun, nor The Beatles’ most critically adored
album (The White Album, Sgt. Pepper and Rubber Soul were better) but rather the
amount of times the narrative twists and spins on its head. Style wise, and it
has been said, Revolver is untouchable. Ritchie’s knack of juxtaposing
effervescent visuals and zeitgeist troubling soundtrack is his most potent trait
as a filmmaker, and Revolver puts bullets in his previous works. However sharp
the director intends to be here, it’s still not beneath him to be light-fingered,
taking the manga sequences from the woeful (yes, woeful) Kill Bill and creating
the Usual Suspects-like Keyser Soze in ‘Mr. Gold’, and the Fight
Club twist-isms that may or may not happen.
One has to wonder what exactly the actors could have made of the script the first
time around, but interesting performances from Jason Statham with his mulleted,
chiselled demur keep the audience engaged longer after the plot screws itself
into a ball. André Benjamin also deserves attention for being almost unrecognisable
from the ‘Hey Ya’ video (not a jodhpur in sight), he transcends the
expected token-rap-star performance and shows the maturity and class Revolver
desires. However, Ray Liotta (as Casino goon Macha) phones-in his now clichéd
Goodfellas mobster shtick. He appears not as a force to be feared, rather suffered.
Revolver, despite many reviewers’ swiftness to jump on the bating bandwagon,
is not a complete failure. It’s just a partial one. The narrative is awkward
and convoluted, nigh unfathomable on first viewing, and with today’s fickle
cinema audience (Hollywood reported its lowest overall takings in years) there
may not be many willing to sit through the film that aims to confound. Nevertheless,
Revolver’s failing could also be its saving grace in that Guy Ritchie should
be celebrated for attempting something so refreshing and complex, treating its
audience not as idiots, but as a something to be challenged. Don’t be too
surprised if Revolver finds its way to becoming a misunderstood cult-hit in future
years.
A point that Revolver makes over and over – and a fundamental strategy
to any successful game plan - is: making your opponent believe they are smarter
than you are allows them to be at their weakest. Accordingly, those who approach
Revolver with the intention to crack its conundrum may leave feeling cantankerous;
whilst those whom enjoy being perplexed may find this an invigorating and refreshing
experience. Revolver is the cinematic equivalent of a demonic carousel; those
with a strong stomach will enjoy being spun around and around, whilst those with
delicate tums may find themselves covered in vomit.
