A miserable mess of gangland cliches and narrative tangle that deserves to be dropped off Southend pier attached to an anvil.
Makes you actively appreciate Guy Ritchie. Actively. Appreciate. Guy. Ritchie…
At the lowest ebb, your mind wanders this imaginary sweet shop, browsing for a better title for a film as small, bitter and distasteful as this.
The film is smart, though not as smart as it thinks.
A film with more wit and colour than most Britflicks about Cockney gangsters.
General release. Check local listings for show times.
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