As of late, Guy Ritchie's marriage to Madonna has generated far more press than his movies. With good reason: it's more interesting to mull over celebrity gossip than talk about a hyper-macho crime flick called Snatch.
Snatch is a slightly expanded version of Ritchie's premiere film, Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels. Once again, his script follows a violently inept assortment of London lowlifes clustered around pricey loot and common greed. Smoking Barrels was itself a slick composite of Tarantino and the Trainspotting/Shallow Grave moviemaking team. Despite the snappy pace, stylish soundtrack (yes, Mrs. Madonna is on it), and fashionable bursts of guns and gore followed by humor, nothing about Snatch could be called original. Ritchie's first film took many by surprise. Its successor revives actors, plot devices, editing methods, major themes, and upholds Ritchie's tradition of assigning frivolous roles to the few women he casts in speaking parts.
Brad Pitt, as a rogue Gypsy, will draw American fans to the British production, as will the presence of Traffic's Benicio Del Toro. In a perfect example of Ritchie's groundless style, Pitts plays a livewire pugilist who only fights in underground boxing clubs. Sound familiar?
The brute but effective pull of title's dictionary meaning describes the film aptly.
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