Despite being a spin-off rather than a sequel – as I would’ve preferred – to Guy Ritchie’s popular 2019 film The Gentlemen, Netflix’s series of the same name still intrigued me for a multitude of reasons. My primary curiosity was the simply the lengthening of a Guy Ritchie concept from his normal 100-minute feature to eight TV-length installments, something that hadn’t been attempted since Channel 4’s little known Lock, Stock… series back in 2000. Having not seen that series but being quite familiar with Ritchie’s films, I came into Netflix’s The Gentlemen rather dubious of it. After all, Ritchie’s crime-comedy-dramas are equal parts entertaining and exhausting, and their style is pretty singular. This begged the question: after the first two (Guy Ritchie-directed) episodes, could this series maintain its momentum and style for six more without wearing thin? The answer, sadly, is no. In spite of this, you still might want to watch it.

After inheriting his family’s dukedom and properties, ex-military officer Edward “Eddie” Horniman (Theo James) is thrust into a life of crime by his bumbling brother Freddy (Daniel Ings) and their recently deceased father’s pot-dealing associate, Susie Glass (Kaya Scodelario). In order to free himself from his newfound criminal connections, Eddie cuts a deal with Susie’s imprisoned father, marijuana kingpin Bobby Glass (Ray Winstone), all the while dealing with pressure from shadowy billionaire Stanley Johnston (Giancarlo Esposito), who wishes to purchase his estate. Just based on this synopsis, you might have noticed a few trademarks of a Ritchie crime story, such as the well-intentioned anti-hero surrounded by a diverse range of miscreants played by very experienced actors. If that’s really all you’re seeking from The Gentlemen, then you’ll highly likely enjoy it. In some ways, that’s what I wanted from it, so in some ways, I quite enjoyed it.

In fact, I really liked it through its first couple of episodes, both of which were directed and co-written by Ritchie himself. Right off the bat, I was a big fan of Freddy, the shitbird brother who can do no right, and Stanley Johnston, with a “T”. These two characters feel as if they were plucked out of a Ritchie gangster flick and dropped straight into this series, with their respective actors both delivering top-notch performances.* The humor in these episodes, and throughout the season, is also pretty successful at coaxing laughter. The recurring “with a T” gag made me chuckle every time, and the physical comedy never failed to amuse. My only complaint in regard to the humor was that the incessant use of text overlays to buoy the jokes lost its luster fairly quickly. As for the violence, as one would expect from a Ritchie joint, it’s a big part of the series and does well to boost the entertainment on-screen. I was particularly keen on a few action scenes, especially one involving Nazi memorabilia and a German Shepherd. As with the humor, however, the violence similarly isn’t entirely effective. Unlike Ritchie’s films, there’s a general lack of grittiness and unpredictability to the bloodshed in The Gentlemen, and it certainly didn’t help that the production mostly utilized airsoft guns over blank-firing ones, resulting in weak, unconvincing gunplay.

That being said, the issues I had with the action and comedy are nitpicks when compared to the issues I had with the storytelling. The Gentlemen’s main problem is that the directors and writers can’t sustain what Ritchie kicked off in the first two installments. To be fair, though, I’m not even sure that Ritchie himself could’ve kept up his pace and style for eight episodes. Sure, it’s always engaging to watch Eddie maneuvering his way out from the Glass weed organization by associating with even worse criminals, especially when each new episode introduces a quirky side character that a great actor is sinking his or her teeth into. However, by episode four or five, I started to notice the procedural repetition – not just of the larger episodic structure, but also of the smaller, moment-to-moment flourishes. The Gentlemen continually pulls from Ritchie’s bag of tricks: non-linear storytelling, time jumps followed by flashbacks with narration, and so on. All of these things are charming and fun when Ritchie uses them in a two-hour movie. But, when they’re overused in an eight-part series, by filmmakers other than Ritchie no less, they end up seeming shallow, imitative, and eventually, tedious.

On top of that, the show’s increasing focus on Eddie and Susie means that the spirited supporting characters get relegated to bit parts in the season’s latter half. Eddie and Susie are good characters, and I like James and Scodelario, but they’re the straight men, and straight men are nothing if not constantly paired with colorful sidekicks or adversaries. Had The Gentlemen’s writers found a way to involve the side players more, the season’s second half would’ve felt more consistent with its first, and I likely wouldn’t have noticed as much or cared as much about its procedural routine. Nevertheless, The Gentlemen is pretty much what I expected it to be, and it did offer me a satisfying dose of Ritchie-ness that I find myself frequently hunting for. Without a doubt, it’s diverting enough to recommend to anyone who has a handful of hours to burn and is looking for something funny and violent. I just hesitate to recommend it to Guy Ritchie fans, given his limited involvement and the fact that it proves his style really only works when limited to feature length. I’m wavering on how to score this, but ultimately…

If I had to score it, I’d give season one of The Gentlemen a 6/10.

Notes:

* I also really liked the performances of Joely Richardson and Vinnie Jones, who play Eddie’s mother and groundskeeper, respectively. Their characters have a charming relationship with one another, and I enjoyed their mini subplots. Unfortunately, with Eddie and Susie’s overall prominence, both veteran actors get very little screen-time.