Or as rewatchable as Den of Thieves or Heat or Inside Man, but it’s good. Scott Eastwood has the gravitas of a pimple and just isn’t ever much of a believable threat or enjoyable to watch as a fuck up, so the pay off isn’t quite there.
One of Ritchie’s least flashy flicks. Statham at his strong and silent-est.
Watched the theatrical cut this time around. Definitely doesn’t play as well as the black and white edit, but can’t say I wasn’t charmed.
At the time, this seemed like a mild misfire. Watching it with fresh eyes, and having seen Sanders’ Crow reboot, it’s clear he’s a terrible filmmaker and shouldn’t be trusted with another dollar. Scarlett isn’t an ideal choice but in better hands she would have been fine. Thinking of Kathryn Bigelow’s Strange Days, how that aesthetic and atmosphere would have worked for this. Even the Keanu Reeves stinker, Johnny Mnemonic did a better job with similar material—in fact both those films are worth revisiting asap.
