Snatch

Herald rating: * * *

Cast: Jason Statham, Stephen Graham, Vinnie Jones, Alan Ford, Brad Pitt

Director: Guy Ritchie

Rating: R18 (violence offensive language)

Running Time: 102 minutes

Screening: Advance previews this weekend and next at Village, Hoyts, Rialto cinemas; opens Thursday, November 2

Review: Russell Baillie

If, as the adage goes, talent borrows and genius steals, then Ritchie who proved his talent on debut Lock Stock and Two Smoking Barrels, could well be a genius. Either that or a one-trick pony.

For Mr Madonna has stolen so much of Snatch from his previous Brit-gangster flick, it's as if that last film has had its plates changed and had a quick respray down a back alley.

And the major difference from Lock Stock - various Americans rounding out the caper's vast cast including Pitt as an unintelligible gypsy bare-knuckle boxer - are merely the fluffy dice Ritchie has strung up to make his vehicle look flasher.

That means if you liked Lock Stock you are going to guffaw as loudly and as frequently at this, in between gritting your teeth at the offhand brutality.

Though it's increasingly apparent Ritchie is less than a genius in in some departments, whether it's his mealy-mouthed dialogue which heads into Carry On territory or his use of various music video cliches - then again, he's almost married to one.

Snatch does widen its underworld demographic to include Yardies, Gypsies, Americans, Jews one memorable Russian, and a dog.

Otherwise it's pretty much the same in terms of delivery, pace and plot structure, with a large diamond substituting for the antique rifles of the predecessor and a story about a couple of small-timers who find themselves in increasing hock to a Mr Big - Ford's malevolent "Bricktop," just one of many colourful monikers including Jones' who reprises his Big Chris turn from Lock Stock under the guise of "Bullet Tooth Tony."

One of the failings of this is that those small-timers Turkish (Statham) and Tommy (Graham) are annoying and uncharismatic enough to actually deserve the good kicking they regularly get, so don't provide much of a rooting interest among the crowded action.

Still, Pitt shines in his crazy-eyed supporting role, making fine use of his Fight Club fisticuffs experience and his terrible accent from The Devil's Own.

It's certainly got style, wit, grit and a maze-like plot of cross, double-cross and remarkable coincidences which dare you not to laugh. It's the comedy that allows Ritchie to get away with blatant remodelling of its predecessor.

Yes, it may just be a hot-wired version of Lock Stock but it still goes like the clappers.