A repugnant gangland romp in which a group of Neanderthalic, perpetually gurning ruffians get tooled up with axe handles, baseball bats and Stanley knives then knock ten bells out of each other for just shy of two hours. Based on a true story, the ‘Rise’ of the title refers to the ‘meteoric’ ascent of mockney street tough, Carlton Leach (Ricci Harnett), from middle-rung football hooligan to, er, club doorman. Leach is then unceremoniously swept aside as the film hastily attempts to give the Rettendon Range Rover murders a once-over in its scrappy second half. There is fun to be had deconstructing writer-director Julian Gilbey’s laughable join-the-dots yob patois, as every sentence seems to start with an, ‘I’m gonna fackin’…’ or ‘You fackin’…’ or, on occasion, ‘So then I only went an’ fackin’…’, typically concluded with a mandatory ‘caaaant!’ The direction, too, smacks of sadism, especially the obvious glee Gilbey gets from filming violent scenes in close-up and, in the case of the bloody shotgun-to-the-face denouement, in triplicate.
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