Botched
Dir. Kit Ryan
Le pantomime du grand guignol…
Botched is a rather fitting title for a film that seemingly revels in its own brand of absolute anarchy. Largely shot in Ireland and Eastern Europe, it boasts an eclectic cast who lick up their absurd characters with perverse relish.
Beginning as something of a slick heist-caper complete with Ocean’s Eleven style car chases, jewellery-thieving, a groovy David Holmes-like soundtrack and talk of ‘one last job.’ However, in a film called Botched, as its name may just suggest, you know that all will not go as planned. Sure enough, Richie (Stephen Dorff) is shipped off to Russia by his sadistic boss (Sean Pertwee) to retrieve a jewel-encrusted cross from a swish Moscow penthouse and compensate for messing up the last heist.
However, events soon bleed into something else entirely ala From Dusk til Dawn. That ‘something else entirely’ is an incredibly gory slapstick film. Splat-stick, if you will. While the ‘one last job’ goes wrong, as predicted in the title, what comes after is as shocking and ludicrous as some of the images it revels in, such as that fridge full of innards, a booby-trap featuring disco music and a glitter-ball (!!) and some very over-the-top performances indeed.
Along with his somewhat unhinged accomplices and an assortment of weird, quite possibly insane hostages, Richie becomes trapped on the mysterious thirteenth floor of the building. While figuring out a plan, the three crooks lock up their newly acquired hostages and the viewer is allowed a few moments to become acquainted with them. Alas, they are all drawn with the broadest of strokes so we can tell them apart before they are bumped off. There are also three women led by Sonya (the always terrific Bronagh Gallagher), who don’t really say much except that they should all pray. None really stand out that much aside from the perversely entertaining Gallagher, who nails the irreverent tone of the film.
Needless to say, lunacy ensues and the group are soon picked off one by unsubtle one by an absolute bonkers villain called Hugo (Alan Smyth), who may or may not be Ivan the Terrible. Or a direct descendent from Ivan the Terrible. There were many things that distracted me throughout, like the sheer audacity of it all, so I’m still not entirely sure what was going on. The sight of Hugo decked out in what looks like Viking garb and then prancing around waving his sword to Bach is quite the spectacle.
Dorff plays it straight, and while this suits his long-suffering character, it also helps the film remain more grounded than it could have otherwise been. He portrays Ritchie with much world weary resignation. And when he says ‘this is getting out of hand’ one can’t help but wonder if he’s still speaking in character. Botched is never boring. Viewers may well be shocked and befuddled by its sheer absurdity. Its lack of seriousness makes the ever so slightly similar Severance look like Deliverance in comparison. Obviously relishing its low budget and grotesque humour, it is an insanely goofy and gory ride. Beware.
