Oh it’s THIS film is it? The one where Alan Rickman is naked a bunch. – and by that I mean two shots, got a good full dorsal at the end if that does it for ya — I’m going to guess it doesn’t, although my readers are an eclectic bunch. Is that enough to make a comedy? Sadly, no. And it’s a shame that Rickman and Colin Firth were in this instead of some Jane Austen adaptation which would have treated both a bit better. Can we blame casting for lack of Emma Thompson or Kate Winslet? The fact that we’re saddled with Cameron Diaz instead – that brought out the mediocrity here, right? Yeah, let’s go with that.
Art authenticator Harry Deane (Firth) conveniently spells out the plot in the first five minutes – Claude Monet, remember that dude? He painted. One day he painted Haystacks, Dawn in the morning, took the afternoon off to look in another direction for a bit and then painted Haystacks, Dusk before night fell (or so Gambit sez). World class prick and Harry’s boss, Shandabar (Rickman) outbid a rival for Dawn, stopping only long enough at the auction house to rub the rival’s nose in the loss. The twin was lost in the Nazi occupation of Paris and finding it has been the proverbial needle in a Haystacks. Shandabar has been looking to complete his set since purchase.
Inventing a cover story (my, this is complicated, no?) about an WWII American G.I. liberator and claimer of the Haystacks, Dusk while forging a reasonable fabrication, Harry intends to broker a deal that robs his douche employer of £12M — Nobody’s the wiser, and Harry gets a very passive-aggressive revenge.
And, of course, nothing of the sort happens. Harry is a bit of a jellydoof and Shandabar is far slier than given credit (sly enough to discount all of Harry’s opinions, for one thing) and the American, PJ Puznowski (Diaz) kinda decides
to exhibit the stereotypical Texan cowgirl personality at every turn. Do rustic Texans ever come soft-spoken in movies? This material wasn’t painful or anything – but it took me a full hour to get a good laugh in – something akin to Firth doing a Marx brothers stateroom routine. I usually find both Rickman and Firth very hard to dislike (even when playing villains); exactly the opposite is true here. I found myself constantly inventing reasons to enjoy the film I was seeing rather than accepting that, well, it just wasn’t good. Even now, I’m reluctant to push it under two stars.
With a relative dearth of laughter, Gambit is a long way to go just for the hint of the li’l Snape. It’s hard to believe this is one of the roles Colin Firth secured in his Oscar wake; my guess is he thought it would be better. After all, it was written by Joel Coen & Ethan Coen, and when did they ever go wrong? I’ll say this – the film starts OK and ends OK, so maybe if you treat it like a long-winded dissertation, everything will go just fine.
Ahhhh, a tale of Rickman and Firth
A promise of great wit and mirth
About art discovery
And crime recovery
It all should be buried ‘neath Earth
Rated PG-13, 89 Minutes
D: Michael Hoffman
W: Joel Coen & Ethan Coen
Genre: Waste of talent
Type of person most likely to enjoy this film: Have you been dying for the lighter side of Firth?
Type of person least likely to enjoy this film: The disappointed
R.I.P. Alan Rickman. I am truly sorry you are with us no longer.
