24 Hours In London Review

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Blah, blah, blah, villains and bent coppers, blah, blah, blah, girl witnesses murder, blah, blah, blah, cliches ad infinitum...


Bent coppers. Fiercesome transatlantic dodgy dealings. It's been said before and it'll be said again: The Long Good Friday is a hell of a movie. Sadly, 24 Hours In London is not, despite having nicked half of its predecessor's plot.

This time our metropolitan Little Caesar comes in the form of 2.4 Children's Gary Olsen - who actually died soon after this was released; heck of an epitaph - whose sword-assisted reign of terror is put in jeopardy by murder witness Lauren Smith.

Before you can say, 'Not another God-awful Lock, Stock rip-off', the streets are running red with blood and the air has thickened with lines half-inched from Reservoir Dogs. Dismal from start to finish, the result will only appeal to those who want to see the Millennium Dome trashed.

Avoid like a dodgy geezer wearing a hoodie. The only thing this film steals is ideas from other, better films.