No Problem Too Small: ‘The Gentlemen’ and Just-in-Time Plotting
The logistics of Guy Ritchie’s adaptation of his own film show why plot is hard.
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Guy Ritchie sure has a brand. When he’s not slumming in the big-budget bullshit of Aladdin or King Arthur (or, god help us all, Swept Away1), his films tend to depict he sort of organized crime that makes violence and criminality entertaining2: Colorful characters, rigid ethical codes, complex schemes, lots of nicknames. He loves to toss in some Travelers and some rich toffs for spice3, then depicts everything with a melange of effects and stunts—freeze frames, titles, montages, the whole lot. He can be a bit of an acquired taste, but never let it be said that Guy Ritchie isn’t making his sort of films (except for maybe Swept Away4).
The Gentlemen is a TV series based on Ritchie’s own 2019 film. The film focused on a marijuana kingpin working in England (Mickey Pearson, played by Matthew McConaughey5) struggling to sell his business and retire without being screwed over or killed, and incidentally noted that England’s bizarre land-use laws6 forced him to pay a bunch of cash-poor aristocrats rent to set up grow farms under their ample acreage. In the television adaptation of that film, he digs into that detail and focuses on Edward Horniman7 (Theo James), the 13th Duke of Halstead. Having unexpectedly inherited his father’s title and estate, Edward discovers that the Glass crime family has an enormous pot farm underground on the family estate. The show leans into his efforts to extricate himself from the situation even as he discovers a certain talent for gangsterism8.
Nothing wrong with the setup, and if you enjoy a good Guy Ritchie romp you’ll likely enjoy this show, which is like a Guy Ritchie film stretched to 12 hours. But the series does highlight one key weakness of series television: It loves to introduce a problem and its solution almost simultaneously so we never worry about how our heroes will murder their way out of this one9.
Life is Just One Damn Thing After Another
The Gentlemen is that sub-category of crime story where the protagonist finds themselves navigating an endlessly expanding flowchart of complications10. There is the stated goal (get rid of the pot business), but every effort in that direction leads to further problems. People die, bodies must be disposed of, bribes paid, alliances made, traitors smoked out11. And every time Eddie solves a problem, it causes three new problems to sprout up in its place.
That’s both the charm and the curse of the series. All those complications may be exciting in a narrative sense, because they keep ramping up the tension and adding flesh to the central conflict, but they also have to be solved almost immediately. If Eddie uncovers a traitor in the organization that puts him and his family (and erstwhile allies the Glass’s) in danger, that traitor has to be dealt with by the end of the episode (or at least the arc) or the audience will expect there to be serious consequences12. Said consequences including the death or dismemberment of several main characters.
As a result, the show hedges its bets by introducing the solution to every problem almost immediately. For the most part, this is accomplished with the presence of Susie Glass (Kaya Scodelario), daughter of kingpin Bobby Glass (Ray Winstone). Susie is the hard-nosed, intelligent, glamorous gangster who can make bodies disappear, introduce Eddy to all manner of fixers, and assign muscle to beat the tar out of people as necessary13. She is treated as a magic black box of criminal resources: Whatever problem Edward finds himself facing, Susie can offer him the resource he needs to solve it pretty much immediately.
For example, when Eddie’s erstwhile brother, Freddy (Danile Ings) murders a crime boss in the family sitting room, Eddie and Susie quickly organize the clean up, framing an underling, hiding the body, and creating a timeline and a narrative. When Eddie has to retrieve the underling’s passport, he encounters an enforcer waiting in the apartment—but no worries, he murders him14 and the scene is further staged to incriminate the underling. This sets further complications in motion, of course, but the immediate problems are solved, and solved almost as quickly as they’re introduced.
The Reason They Own 75% Of The Country Is Because They Stole It
Just-in-time plotting like this, where every obstacle and danger is neatly removed by episode’s end (or early in the subsequent episode, when the writers are feeling naughty), can be satisfying and entertaining. Most instant gratification is a lot of fun15. We identify with our protagonists, and so when they find themselves in what literary scientists from across the pond might call a spot of bother we enjoy seeing them extricate themselves. And if the extricating is kind of clever, all the better.
There are diminishing returns, of course, and that’s the challenge: When every problem is solved quickly, tension vanishes16. You might still enjoy what you’re watching for the snazzy dialog, hip editing, charming performances, or because you’re too lazy to stand up and find the remote control, but you probably won’t remember it for very long. Even if you have a more complex and nuanced overarching arc running through the middle of the series, chances are all the easy wins robs your story of the grit necessary to hold people’s attention spans.
Of course, this may be wishful thinking since my own life is a series of emergencies caused by my five cats and my own lack of stamina17. If I could start solving these emergencies quickly and boringly instead of watching in horror as they metastasize throughout my entire life, bringing me to the edge of ruin, that would be great.
NEXT WEEK: The Boys and the exhaustion …
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Guy Ritchie is so old he once dated Madonna.
As opposed to, you know, fucking terrifying.
Also: Boxing. So, so much boxing. I suppose Guy Ritchie’s boxing is my whiskey.
MADONNA!
Am I the only person freaked out by McConaughey’s intensity? I feel like hanging out with him would be life-threatening.
You can pretty much replace the phrase “land-use” with anything else and that sentence still works. England’s not a serious country.
Nothing will convince me that this name wasn’t originally thought up by a 13-year-old Guy Ritchie and cherished ever since.
“Discovering a certain talent for gangsterism” is basically every man’s secret dream.
I cannot be the only person who wishes he could murder his way out of various situations. Mostly unwanted small talk.
Is “An Endlessly Expanding Flowchart of Complications” the title of my memoir? Yes, if I’m going for that “Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius” vibe.
This sounds like the last time I dared to go on vacation with friends.
Stupid audience. This writing gig would be a lot easier if we didn’t have to deal with an audience.
Scodelario’s decision to play Susie with an air of amused disbelief as if she’s not sure if everything everyone says to her is a lie or not in every scene actually works gangbusters.
It’s okay, it’s one of those good murders where the protagonist has no choice.
For example, I just ate an entire bag of Doritos and drank 3 beers and now I am woozy and nauseous.
In real life, this is a life goal (solve problems, eliminate tension) but when telling a story it is the opposite of a goal. Writing is a confusing vocation not fit for the gentry.
Ironically, my cats do seem to solve quite a lot of problems via murder.
Matthew McConaughey and pot, huh? Who da thunk. God save me from another Oscar winning performance by that dip.