Ian Fitzgibbon directs Cillian Murphy, Brendan Gleeson and Jodie Whitaker in this Irish crime farce.

This kind of tosh that you can watch post pub and still be disappointed – even though you can join it halfway and know exactly where you are (despite all the characters and their seperated plots), or fall asleep at the same point and not feel you’ve missed any surprises before the credits. The kind of tosh that became funded ten a penny after Lock, Stock and this feels like the tenth one made on the final greenlit penny – London stands poorly in for Dublin as a location whenever passable and even then when not (nit picky but sometime you really can’t see the mange for the nits). The kind of tosh that wastes Brendan Gleeson, Cillian Murphy and Liam Cunningham in undemanding one dimensional roles they have all done better in various point in their careers. No laughs come, no shocks, just the rote. Only the narration by a gloating, mysterious figure (Death? God? Gab Byrne?) feels like a ghost from a marginally more ambitious film.

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