Either I’ve reached the limits of my ability to
comprehend film, or this Guy Ritchie gangster flick is so cryptic, so
obscure, so intentionally oblique that a normal viewer will come away
scratching his head in confusion. What begins as a compelling and
involving crime melodrama, devolves into self-referential psychobabble
that had this writer utterly baffled.
Jake Green (Jason Statham) is spending seven years in jail, choosing
to cut his sentence in half by isolating himself in solitary
confinement. On either side of his cell are a con man and a chess
master. The two communicate through notes within books on higher
mathematics and quantum mechanics (don’t all prisons have such
books?) that pass through Green’s hands. They trade chess moves,
define a formula for acquiring great gobs of cash, and reveal plans
for a prison break. They offer to take Green with them when they break
out, but they simply disappear one night, to the astonishment of the
guards and Green.
Flash forward. Green was released from jail and has spent two years
accumulating those great gobs of cash. Flush, he turns his attention
to the man for whom he took the fall nine years before, a mobster and
casino owner named Macha (Ray Liotta). In a cold, verbal confrontation
between Green and Macha, it becomes clear to the mobster that Green
represents a threat. Not one to hesitate to eliminate threats with
lethal violence, Macha orders Green’s hit. He’s saved in
mysterious ways by two mysterious strangers, Zach (Vincent Pastore)
and Avi (Andre Benjamin). Alas, Green’s problems have just
begun.
He’s diagnosed with an incurable and rare
blood disease that will kill him within three days, but Zach and Avi
claim they can help. With nowhere else to turn, to save his life, he
seemingly makes a pack with two devils. There are conditions: he must
obey all orders without question and he must hand over all his cash.
The money is used for loan sharking and to mount an operation to steal
from and destroy Macha. How they get their intelligence to strike
vulnerable and time-critical weaknesses is never revealed. What
follows is a blend of excellently staged violent crime (much of which
is far more complex than I’m summarizing), philosophizing about
the big con (repeating rules for the big con several times in several
contexts), and (here’s where the film lost me) psychobabble
about inner turmoil, ego, and escaping unrealized self-imposed
internal imprisonment. And annoyingly, I was unable to discern the
motivations to two key characters.
Ritchie employs creative and sometimes self-conscious camera
techniques. The fine performers turn in credible performances. The
action is well staged and brutal. Ritchie switches to animation during
one of the sequences, in a fashion similar to Tarantino’s Kill
Bill, but to lesser effect. The film is first and foremost a
psychological study of confidence games and the conning of conmen. I
only wish it had been a little less obscure in its approach to
conveying the inner chaos.
The Video: How Does The
Disc Look?
The film’s theatrical aspect
ratio of 2.35:1 is presented in a fine looking high definition
transfer compressed with the AVC video CODEC. This is a fairly new
film, even if it took three years to release it, so the transfer print
is pristine; no dirt or blemishes here. Small object detail is pretty
decent, but finely grained textures are not state of the art. Color
accuracy can be a bit odd. Flesh tones can be a bit on the yellow
side, imparting a jaundiced appearance to the actors all too often.
Chroma saturation is also not consistent; some scenes are much
livelier than others. Both may have been an artistic decision. Blacks
levels don’t plumb the depths of the video dynamic range, and
can be, instead, a very dark brown or blue. The transfer is far better
than could possibly achieved on DVD, but the images are not as fine as
they should be for such a new film.
The Audio: How
Does The Disc Sound?
The lossless TrueHD 5.1 track
fare better than the visuals. Depending on the onscreen action, the
mix will transform from front-centric conservatism to entertaining
immersion. Ambience is not ignored; I appreciated the sounds of the
slot machines emanating from the surrounds when the characters are
talking in a casino. The bottom end is strong, most obvious in the
gunfire and in the bass lines of the various musical tracks and score.
Statham voiceover narration emphasizes the upper bass, imparting an
unnaturally heavy timbre to his voice. But the film’s dislog
sounds more convincing and is distortion-free throughout.
The alternative track is in French Dolby TrueHD 5.1. The optional
subtitles are in English SDH, English, and French.
The Supplements: What Goodies Are There?
The disc opens with a BD Promo, and a high
definition trailers for Hancock, the expanded BD release of
Casino Royale, and 21. These may be skipped and
accessed from Previews on the Special Features menu.
There are seven deleted or extended
scenes (24:29 aggregate, non-anamorphic widescreen, SD), most
of which are introduced by the director. I was fascinated that Ritchie
explains that the alternate opening explains too much and was changing
to reduce giving away to much too soon. I had already seen the film
when I watched this sequence and I was just as confused. He made
similar comments concerning a rooftop golf scene, but once again, I
was not any more informed. I’d like to report that watching
these scenes added clarity, but, in fact, I cannot.
The
Outtakes (4:03, non-anamorphic widescreen, SD)
represent the gag reel. With the exception of two very bad golfers,
there is neither a smile nor chuckle to be had.
I had high
hopes for The Game: The Making of Revolver
featurette (24:30, non-anamorphic widesceern, SD) to
give me the clarity I craved. It was not to be. Although this is a
pleasant and somewhat revealing behind-the-scenes piece that is
several cuts above EPK material, it didn’t focus on the intent
of the storyline. I usually prefer the kind of technical and anecdotal
content found in his featurette; I usually object to wasting my time
with an extended discussion of plot and character motivations, but
that’s exactly what I needed. And I still do.
Revolver: Making the Music featurette
(14:08, non-anamorphic widescreen, SD) introduces us to composer
Nathaniel Mechaly. Since he’s French, his comments are supported
by forced English subtitles. This is rather slick, but the content is
precisely what one would expect from such a short. It’s an
elaborate explanation of the reasons for the artistic decisions that
drove the score.
But wait, here’s another
featurette, The Concept: An Interview With
Writer/Director Guy Ritchie And Editor James Hurbert (16:15, non-
anamorphic widescreen, SD). Once again, I was amazed that Ritchie
thought that they were making the film too clear; he insists that it
needed to be more cryptic. On that score, the filmmakers
succeeded… royally. Alas, the featurette, as interesting as it
is in its own right, simply addresses the philosophy of editing and
the artistic approach applied. I was also fascinated by
Ritchie’s comments that he went back and screened the film with
a critical eye after initial negative reviews were published;
he decided that he couldn’t see one thing that required change.
I think this is a case of a writer/director knowing what he wanted to
say, even sees an expression of his intent onscreen, but is so close
to the work that he can’t see the film through a viewer’s
eyes.
Next is Music Trailer (3:47, non-
anamorphic widescreen, SD), which is presumably a promo for the score
CD.
There is a commentary by
writer/director Guy Ritchie and editor James Herbert. With limited
time available to me, I went straight for the last couple of chapters,
when the psychological underpinnings of the film are to be revealed. I
listened intently as Ritchie alluded to what was going on, but his
choice of words and phraseology continue to obscure. As the commentary
wound down, the voices of an array of psychiatrists seen to the left
of the closing credits became more audible. This was the second time I
listened to their explaining that we are all imprisoned by our egos,
and that we mistakenly believe that our egos are our best friends. Did
that help me understand the film? No.
The 104-minute film
is organized into sixteen chapters.
Final
Thoughts
The film’s underlying premise is
intriguing and thought-provoking, but the execution leaves much to be
desired. Plot holes abound, and when the film becomes mysterious and
obscure to the point of distraction, it simply left this viewer with
an overwhelming sense of frustration. A reasonable presentation backed
up by generous and germane supplements don’t make up for the
obfuscation.
Here’s a note about the apparent duplicate Buy Guide. Our
understaffed I.T. people are hard at work on a large project, putting
out fires, and have not yet had the time to modify the underlying site
database formatting code to accommodate the new 0-to-10 rating scales.
So until they do, for HD on disc, I’ll insert this note and a
Buy Guide at the end of the review text and leave the conventional 0-
to-5 Buy Guide blank.