unlucky
It’s an interesting concept - a thriller wherein gangsters obsess not over dames or sleeping with the fi shes, but the correct use of genitives and the proper conjugation of verbs. Goodfellas written by Tom Paulin: who could say no? But in practice it results in one of the most jarring fi lms of the last few years. The conversations here all revolve around how meaning and intention can get muddled when language is used improperly.
Yet the fi lm is set in the gangster underworld, hardly our fi rst port of call for a lesson in syntax. As a result we are shown a multitude of supposedly ‘hard’ criminal fi gures who all speak like English teachers • which, no offence to those up at the EFL, is hardly the stuff of nightmares. So it rather fails as a thriller. Screenwriter Jason Smilovic may think seeing huge black machinegun toting gangsters prissily dance around language is hilarious, but the joke soon wears thin.
Not that it was a great joke to start with, with most of the ‘clever’ wordplay harking back to the old Chuckle Brothers ‘to me, to you’ sketch. Here’s a re-enactment of a conversation from Lucky Number Slevin: “Hey you!”, “What me?”, “No, him”, “So not me, but him?”, “No you”, “Yes?”, “I know you are, but what am I?” Now, imagine that for two hours. On top of this wordplay there is a layer of sub-Tarantino pop culture references.
Conversations about James Bond, comic books and pop music litter the script. Although a welcome break from the characters ‘hilarious’ language antics, these short interludes don’t ring true coming from the same characters’ mouths. This is a real shame as it is clear that these are the lines the actors truly relish, and it is in these moments that we see what the fi lm could have been. Ignoring the script, one cannot deny the impressive collection of talent gathered for the fi lm.
Morgan Freeman is classy as ever, lanky Josh Hartnett takes further steps away from simply being dumb teen eye-candy, Bruce Willis looks cool, and even ham-extraordinaire Ben Kingsley is on good form. McGuigan directs with fl air and style, his camera zipping around New York, capturing the well-choreographed violence with real panache. The direction and the acting almost save the fi lm, but in having to work from Smilovic’s fl awed blueprints the fi lm is blighted with a rotten core.
When in the age restriction box on the poster you read ‘Contains strong language’, take heed; the fi lm positively drowns in the stuff.
2nd Mar 2006