Love, Honour & Obey review

A half-arsed tale of karaoke-obsessed London gangsters, Love, Honour & Obey is made in the same largely improvised way as this bunch of jokers' last film, the equally execrable Final Cut.

This rambling, self-indulgent drivel drifts from scene to interminable scene with an unbelievable air of smugness. Wrapped up in their perceived cleverness, Burdis, Anciano and co are enjoying themselves so much playing at cockernee hard men that they assume the enjoyment spills out through the screen to the audience. It doesn't.

What makes it even more frustrating is that - - with the exception of Denise Van Outen and Sadie Frost - - there is a shedload of talent being pissed up the wall here. Law, Winstone, Burke, Ifans and even Pertwee are all so much better than this glorified home video. They'd just better hope no casting director ever sees it...

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