Snatch is a movie that has balls. Or, since the movie is set in England and narrated with a cockney accent, it has bollocks. Either way, the movie so desperately wants you to know that it has bollocks that it waggles them around in your face stylistically for all of two hours.
There are no women in Snatch. Instead there are a motley crew of cartoonish men with names like Turkish, Franky Four Fingers, Mickey, Brick Top, Boris “The Blade” “The Bulletdodger” Yurinov, Vinny, Bullet Tooth Tony, Tyrone, and so on. Most of them communicate in a cockney accent, or in some indecipherable dialect. They all have about two dimensions, if that.
There is a plot, or a series of plots. They involve a stolen diamond the size of a fist, a boxing match where of course someone has to take a fall in the fourth round, a Caravan trailer, and gangsters, but not necessarily in that order. The plot is mostly indecipherable, and it doesn’t matter much. This movie is more about having bollocks.
Because the movie has bollocks, it is stylized. Director Guy Ritchie enjoys playing with hypersaturated film, slow motion, quick editing, obscure camera angles, and Jason Statham as the Turkish character narrating the movie in a cockney accent while talking in quick, choppy sentences. His narration comes off as an English imitation of Raymond Chandler.
Statham may be the main character of the movie. He plays a fellow who arranges fights for a bookie in a version of the English criminal underworld that is altogether unrealistic. But of course the plot doesn’t matter.
Snatch comes as a direct stylistic successor to Pulp Fiction and Trainspotting, but it’s a mess in terms of plot, character development and story. The characters don’t evolve and the story doesn’t go anywhere.
But Snatch is entertaining. It’s really fun to watch. It has tough characters, a far-flung plot, and enough stylization to put most modern movies to shame. If nothing else, this movie was confidently directed. Snatch has balls, and it’s not ashamed that it has little else.