Guy Ritchie is Quentin Tarantino. Young, visionary writer-director makes big splash with debut feature: a cheap, stylised crime caper that meshes snappy dialogue with excessive gun-play and a hip soundtrack. But what did Tarantino do after Reservoir Dogs? Did he greedily oversee a spin-off TV series that subtracted from the magic of his own film? No. And for the all-important follow-up, did he remake Reservoir Dogs? No. But that, in effect, is what Ritchie has done with Snatch. This should have been - but isn’t - his Pulp Fiction.
Those who remain unmoved by Lock, Stock And Two Smoking Barrels usually write off its creator as all style, no soul. These people are mad - it is a magnificent piece of entertainment, and the legion of pale Brit-flick imitators that have come in its wake only serve to highlight its unique swagger. Ritchie is stylised: as a director he’s unsurprisingly prone to every pop-video camera trick in the box, and as a writer he’s almost pantomime. In terms of this heavily-stamped trademark style, Snatch is identical to Lock, Stock. Fair enough. But it’s also identical in terms of plot, structure, subject, pace and setting. Four of the cast recur - Statham, Jones, Ford and, in cameo, Jason Flemyng - yet Ritchie has taken care to cast them in new roles. Why bother? Snatch would have been a more honest not-sequel if it had been the further adventures of Big Chris. Instead, Jones does the same scene-stealing schtick under a new name - including some self-referential door-slamming. Who are they trying to kid?
Sure, Ritchie’s added Yardies, Jews, Americans and Gypsies to the pan-criminal mix, replaced cards with boxing and antique rifles with a diamond, but it’s more like a remix than a remake, with Yanks Dennis Farina and Benicio Del Toro thrown in for cross-pond appeal.
That said, if you liked Lock, Stock, you’ll like this. The turns are superb (and their uniformity is a credit to Ritchie’s “happy family” style of film-making); Statham makes an engaging lead; Alan Ford (who narrated Lock, Stock so perfectly) is Long Good Friday threatening and gets the script’s best “caant!”; while Pitt pitches his indecipherable “pikey” just right, drawing on the physicality of Fight Club, the insanity of Twelve Monkeys and the dodgy accent of The Devil's Own. Plus, it’s a treat to see EastEnders’ Mike Reid off the Square, and Vinnie, of course, has become a draw in his own right.
So even though Snatch is almost actionably similar to Lock, Stock, for many that will be its selling point.
