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Glen Powell was blah in his last "big" movie, "Anyone But You". Here, things don't improve, although this time his female costar is just as extravangantly luscious as Sydney Sweeney, only brunette. His character, Gary Johnson dresses up in wigs and hats and costumes and assumes accents and personas to convince qould-be criminals that's he's a real hit man, but only they believe him - the audience certainly doesn't. One critic, Jason Fraley, describes the rom-com arc of the plot as "Fifty Shades Of Gary". The film is emotionless and gutless and packs zero punches. I kept waiting to laugh or be intrigued or moved or something... but nope, nothing/

There are dukes and princesses and commoners and criminals (who's to say which are which?) There's an understandably frustrated brother whose every attempt at fixing things goes desperately wrong, much to our collective delight. There are crazy aged aristocrats with machine guns shooting at busloads of tourists. There are fistfights, gunfights, knife-fights, explosions, intentional and accidental and near- murders, a just-enough-but-not-too-much amount of gore, and a palate-cleansing sprinkling of love interest. Everything you could possibly want from Guy Ritchie at the peak of his craft, and more, thanks to a superb cast and a sparklingly witty script. Pure pleasure!