La critique de James Berardinelli (1)
The tale of Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels is the most improbable of success stories. After having difficulty securing a financial backer, Guy Ritchie's debut feature became one of the biggest home-grown successes in the U.K. last year. Now, with an appropriate push from Gramercy, the North American distributor, the film is about to take its shot at success on this side of the Atlantic. Those who sample Ritchie's movie will find it to be a nearly-perfect blend of violence and comedy, a kind of O. Henry meets Q. Tarantino where the irony drips more freely than the blood.
For viewers of Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels, two of the first movies to leap to mind will be Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction. But, while numerous similarities are in evidence, Ritchie denies having been influenced by Tarantino. Instead, he cites his primary inspiration as the taut, brilliant 1980 British gangster film, The Long Good Friday. One can also readily assume that Trainspotting figured into the mix (several scenes and photographic tricks are lifted almost verbatim), and the combination of humor and bloodshed recalls Elmore Leonard's approach (see, in particular, Out of Sight). Considering that Tarantino's movies, no matter how expertly done, are largely derivative, it's entirely feasible that Ritchie could have come upon the same formula independently, and, since it's in vogue, there's little surprise that his movie has found an audience.
Surface likenesses aside, Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels is actually a kinder, gentler motion picture than Pulp Fiction. While there's as much violence, Ritchie's method is different. All of the most vicious acts occur off screen. We see the ramifications, but we miss the genuine brutality. This effectively distances the viewer from the bloodshed, allowing us to see the proceedings in an almost cartoon-like light. It's easier to laugh when the baggage of excessive, graphic violence is taken out of the equation. Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels contains gore, but its presentation is neither gut-wrenching nor intense.
If the criminal ranks in London are comprised of losers like this, it's a wonder that anyone gets away with anything. Eddy (Nick Moran), Tom (Jason Flemyng), Soap (Dexter Fletcher), and Bacon (Jason Statham) are a quartet of con-artists and thieves who have scraped together enough money to enter a high-stakes poker game run by the ominously-named Hatchet Harry Lonsdale (P.H. Moriarty, who appeared in The Long Good Friday). Eddy is an expert poker player who, because of his ability to read people's reactions, almost never loses in an honest match. But Harry doesn't believe in playing fair. With the help of his nasty assistant, Barry the Baptist (the late Lenny McLean), Harry has fixed the game.
When Eddy loses a huge round, he finds himself half a million pounds in debt, with only seven days for him and his friends to get the money. So they turn to the only possible solution: stealing from their criminal neighbors, who are led by a tough guy named Dog (Frank Harper). Dog and his crew are about to rob a group of marijuana growers who work for a local drug baron (Vas Blackwood). Also thrown into the mix are a couple of cowardly and incompetent thieves, a deadpan hitman (soccer star Vinnie Jones) and his equally deadpan son (Peter McNicholl), Eddy's irate father (Sting), a perpetually stoned girl (Suzy Ratner), and an unfortunate cop.
