Stop, Drop, and Roll, or Something Like That

I recently rewatched Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels, a comedy that was made in 1998 by Guy Ritchie. I laughed, I gasped, etc., but what I remember thinking as I sat on the couch in a post-movie daze was how British the whole thing was. I’d heard the difference in humor between American and British media tossed around a couple of times. I didn’t feel like I really saw it until then. 

  Perhaps a clearer example is The Office, which was adapted from the British show with the same name. The two shows parallel each other in the first season, but then diverge, meaning that the American show needed something that the British one didn’t. What was it? Character development. What is heralded as the make-or-break of much media seems completely absent from the original. To denounce the show as worse would be in bad faith; I have also watched neither show, so my word has limited value. 

The Office (British) (™) (not really) and Two Smoking Barrels have their lack of character development in common. Personally, I love it. I think it’s extremely limiting to require all characters to become better people, but I would even say requiring your characters to grow at all is limiting. You have to think about the message. Is the point of the film that the characters can’t change? Does it say something about human nature if the kind character goes through hell and is still kind? Does it reveal something about society if the idiot makes the same mistakes over and over, incapable of breaking free? So many questions. So, if you choose to watch this film, and I sincerely hope you do, I advise approaching it with a neutral viewpoint. Now, enough cultural analysis, and onto my sales pitch!

Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels is an extremely fitting name for two reasons. The threads of this movie’s plot are numerous and winding, but one important part of the tapestry is the existence of two antique guns. They float around the city, ending up in every part of the film.

The other reason that the name is perfect is that this movie has mastered the use of Chekhov’s gun. Not only does every element introduced end up important, but they all interact and bounce off of each other to create a unique sensation.

Watching this movie feels a bit like watching an extremely well-edited documentary of a fascinating true story. Nothing is forced, nothing is ignored, and yet it all comes together in the end. It doesn’t follow the traditional hero’s journey; in fact, most things the main characters attempt to accomplish go sideways. The focus isn’t on what they try to do. Underneath the superficial plot, there is the sense that no matter what they tried, they would wind up in the same position. Whether or not the characters end up changing as the movie progresses, I will leave a mystery. 

This driving sense of inevitability is aided partially by the soundtrack, which is overall both varied and extremely well-suited to each scene; it returns over and over again to the same rock beat. In between scenes complemented by Dusty Springfield’s Spooky or James Brown tracks, the driving rock beat reminds you: It’s not over yet. Did you really think they made it this time?

Also featured are: best dad of the year, a traffic warden with unfortunate timing, golf, impromptu haircuts, and many, many quotable lines. I give this movie a five… hundred thousand dollars. It has a week to pay me back. It’s been emotional. (Okay, fine, my actual rating is a 4.5/5. Was it actually that good? Probably not, but it gave me a lot to think about.)

One final note: This movie is rated R for almost all the reasons you can think of, and probably a few that you can’t. It gets creative. I would advise caution.