With a shoes-clicking-on-marble start that’s pure Burn After Reading, and some saucy surveillance games that reminded me of Sneakers, Ritchie plans his menu with familiar ingredients. Unfortunately for them, it isn’t the only one: rival heavies get Taser-happy and gazump each other, as if we were playing Squid Game with nukes at stake. On this occasion, some deadly bit of weaponry (“The Handle”) has been stolen from a British tech facility, and Fortune is plonked at the head of a recovery team. It’s tempting to wonder if the same dynamic comes into play whenever the Stath picks up the blower and it’s Guy Ritchie on the line. Statham is one Orson Fortune, a superspy who wants to be on holiday, but keeps being dragged into vital black-ops by his handler Nathan (a nicely harassed Cary Elwes). It also collapses, but no one’s taking themselves too seriously here – so why should we? That title is a needless mouthful for this Guy Ritchie/Jason Statham spy caper, which leers, winks and crudely entertains.
He’s on point as a traitorous smoothie in Dungeons & Dragons, but he’s even better as a perma-tanned billionaire arms dealer with a Michael Caine accent in Operation Fortune: Ruse de Guerre. You can’t move for Hugh Grant playing syrupy sleazeballs at the moment.
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