Guy Ritchie directs Charlie Hunnam, Jude Law and Àstrid Bergès-Frisbey in this fantasy crime mash-up of the English mythology involving swords in stones and ladies in lakes.

About 15 minutes into this flop epic, I almost leant over to my mate and whispered “I’m quite enjoying this.” A barrage of traditional and amped up fantasy imagery, some quickfire spectacle, elephants the size of mountains with phasma blasting pyramids built on their backs, a sea witch is all writing tentacles and varying nude bodies. Then clunk, we switch into a pantomime costumed version of RockNRolla. Characters (“Nice boys”) refer to each other as Kung Fu George and the like, cameras are attached to faces during footchases, a story is told and retold over three different timeshifts, we just about resist putting Oasis’ Fucking in the Bushes on over a montage. King Arthur never blends its clearly cut up and rearranged narrative together. Yet I still liked it, this King Arthur didn’t exactly work or have much point but it had an energy. But after an hour you grow flaggy, grow bored, as bored as Jude Law’s neutered villian looks. The Guy Ritchie-ism eventually prove deadening, the flickering fantasy gets drowned out by them. Too much happens with too little consequence. You’ve run a marathon distance at a sprint. And with the finishing line not even in sight no one bothers to pop  Oasis’ Fucking in the Bushes on to keep you going. No one really makes a massive forced error but you care little for the end result. Draining rather than inspiring. Clanging rather biting. Everyone looks pretty at least.

4