This series adaptation of the hit film is overblown, messy, ridiculous and a whole lot of fun.
Guy Ritchie’s filmography has gone into hyperdrive in recent years, but surely the project to have most captured the imagination of the director’s fan base has got to be 2019’s The Gentlemen.
After years spent adapting stories and utilising IP, with the Sherlock Holmes films, 2015’s The Man from UNCLE, 2017’s King Arthur: Legend of the Sword and 2019’s Aladdin, Ritchie took things back to basics, crafting a knotty, violent crime film more in line with his initial output of Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels and Snatch.
Reportedly, the film was always intended to be a TV series, but after no production companies would take the bait of Ritchie’s pitch, he changed tack and developed the rip-roaring film, which received mixed-to-positive reviews and developed a firm following after it arrived on Netflix in 2020.
Returning the project to its TV roots, a series was announced later that year, to be inspired by the film but telling a new story with new characters.
The question is, of course, with a strong fan base now waiting on tenterhooks to see what Ritchie has cooked up, has he done it again, and created something those fans can fall in love with? Having seen all eight episodes, the answer is a resounding yes.
While the film starred the likes of Matthew McConaughey, Charlie Hunnam, Colin Farrell and Hugh Grant, and told the story of an American cannabis baron looking to sell his business, this version of The Gentlemen stars Theo James as Eddie Horniman, a young army officer who inherits his father’s estate and dukedom ahead of his elder brother Freddy (Daniel Ings).
When Freddy finds himself in financial trouble, owing a lot of money to some very bad people, Eddie discovers that while the family is asset rich, they are cash poor.
To compensate for this, his father had been allowing the criminal, cannabis producing Glass enterprise, led by Susie (Kaya Scodelario) on behalf of her imprisoned father Bobby (Ray Winstone), to operate on his land for a fee.
Twists and turns abound as Eddie finds himself being pulled further and further into the criminal underworld, trying to keep his aristocratic family safe and their finances afloat.
In truth, this is the most succinctly and spoiler-free that the plot can be described – like so many of Ritchie’s plots, it’s a tangled web of characters, motivations, alliances and betrayals, with each one leading to another and complications always around the corner.
In a film, this all has to tie up within a couple of hours, meaning the web can only spread so far. In the format of a series, Ritchie is truly let loose, meaning the number of characters and plotlines can expand almost infinitely.
All of this to say that the series is messy, convoluted, at times absurd and frequently overblown. But, above all that, it is an absolute boat-load of fun.
Ritchie brings all of his signature style to this project, and has rounded up some of the best actors in the business to achieve his vision.
Former collaborators like Vinnie Jones are assembled here alongside newcomers like James, Scodelario and Ings, while even those you just assumed had worked with Ritchie at some point but haven’t, such as Winstone, show up in supporting roles.
Thanks to this, the world feels expansive, vibrant and filled with real characters. Whether we’re meant to or not, you can totally believe that McConaughey’s Mickey Pearson and Michelle Dockery’s Rosalind are out there somewhere in this madcap world.
As with the film, the plot throws an absolute storm of stuff at you – this person is in league with that person, who owes another person money but that person is being blackmailed, and on and on and on.
Somehow, though, it all seems to work and remains somewhat cohesive and intelligible. You may not know why every single thing is happening at all times, but the central, emotional hooks – the ones tied to our leads – remain comprehensible.
While the series does address some evident themes, in truth what it’s saying can be summed up in one, quite simple line – the aristocracy are just as criminal as the gangsters.
It’s certainly not novel, nor is it all that deep, but by taking this central conceit and running with it in different directions, the show grounds itself in a central culture clash, one which means it can deviate from its central through-line with the Hornimans and still feel like one series, one story, one whole.
It also helps that Ritchie has filled out the world with fun and distinctive characters, each of whom bring something different to the table and form part of a terrific ensemble.
Yes, many of them are stereotypes, it’s the way Ritchie operates, but they are also unique enough and filled with enough of their own specific motivations and pitfalls as to make them engaging.
James is perhaps the most impressive we’ve seen him here, playing Eddie as the straight man and the pragmatic centre, but also making him flawed enough that he remains interesting, and isn’t completely outdone by his more vibrant supporting characters.
Meanwhile, there are strong supporting turns from Scodelario, (a surprisingly restrained) Jones, Winstone, Joely Richardson and Giancarlo Esposito, but the true stand-out is undoubtedly Ings.
His character Freddy is somehow both the most likeable and the most infuriating of them all, while also simply being a riot to watch. He’s hugely entitled and anything he can get wrong he does, but there’s still a streak of vulnerability running through him that we can empathise with.
Ings just gets the tone of the series, and his character encapsulates it – yes, it’s violent and dramatic, but it’s also hugely silly and comic. Unlike some other filmmakers with a distinctive visual style and an obsession with gritty punch-ups and shoot-outs, Ritchie has never been one to take himself too seriously, and it really pays off here.
This comic streak means that when the dialogue gets too clichéd or the hyper-masculine criminal negotiations get too on the nose, there’s always something to undercut it. This is an uber-stylised, almost cartoonish world at times, and we’re not meant to take it as being deadly earnest.
Of course, the action is propulsive, exciting and impressively staged – you’d expect nothing less from a Ritchie production, he just knows how to stage these sequences and when to deliver them for maximum impact, frequently spraying plenty of blood across the screen.
It’s just another example of how what for some will be the show’s strengths will be a complete turn-off for others. If you’re not a fan of Ritchie’s previous work in the crime genre, and particularly if you weren’t a fan of 2019’s The Gentlemen, then this will not be for you.
That’s the benefit of the film having been released before this. You absolutely don’t need to have seen it to understand anything that’s going on here – it is completely stand-alone – but it does help to set up expectations.
For all those who enjoyed the film, even loved it, there were others who found it too violent, too glib, too high on its own supply.
If that’s you, then you’ll want to stay away from this series. It’s Guy Ritchie going full Guy Ritchie, perhaps the most Guy Ritchie he’s ever gone before.
If that sounds like a bit of you, though, then strap in – it’s going to be a truly wild ride.
The Gentlemen will be available to stream on Netflix from Thursday 7th March 2024. Sign up for Netflix from £4.99 a month. Netflix is also available on Sky Glass and Virgin Media Stream.
Check out more of our Drama coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what’s on.
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