Guy Ritchie films have been accused of many things over the years, but “boring” has rarely been among the slights. Removed from his native soil in this latest outing and robbed of anything resembling a unique or interesting character (usually the hallmarks of his work), Ritchie is fully and truly adrift with “Wrath of Man”: a sophomoric revenge fantasy that reads at the middle school level.
With its lead on autopilot, and a script whose big twist is that there is no twist, that this is as hollow, stupidly violent, and derivative as it appears at first glance, the movie’s only real surprise comes from its stunning ability to somehow keep getting worse with each passing scene.
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