Tuesday, 26 March 2013

Guns, Girls, and Gambling Review

It was an interesting idea.  Take the popularity of the hip and cool London underground movies and put it in the context of Indian casinos.  You have a mix of quirky characters played by recognizable and fairly decent actors.  (Yes, I just called Christian Slater decent.  Face it.  He has some talent.)  Then, you call it Guns, Girls and Gambling and you should have at least a passable movie.  So, what happened?

I know that you should not judge a book by its cover or a movie by its poster or name.  But a movie like this called Guns, Girls and Gambling should probably have more than one gambling scene.  It should also have more than one girl that is important to the plot.  The Girl Next Door really wasn't that important.  So, had they changed the name, would it have been a decent movie?  No.

The biggest problem is that the movie is a cavalcade of one trick ponies.  The blonde has one schtick:  reciting poetry in a horrible effort to be like Jules Winnfield in Pulp Fiction.  Even Samuel L Jackson delivered it a bit awkwardly.  To have a someone who I'm pretty sure none of us can remember the name of deliver the same style of lines is a recipe for disaster.  If that was it, I could have forgiven it.  But it's basically 90 minutes of everyone correcting everyone else for their political incorrectness and one or two other jokes that are beaten into the ground.

Sure, there's some cool movie violence and the overall story isn't horrible.  But after 90 minutes of basically the same thing, you just get bored.  Don't see it.  Opt for something by Guy Ritchie instead.

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