Revolver is the 2005 crime thriller directed by Guy Ritchie and co-written with Luc Besson, starring Jason Statham as Jake Green — an ex-con and gambler with a fatal blood disorder, freshly released from prison and seeking revenge on the casino boss who put him away, Dorothy Macha, played by Ray Liotta. Saved from a hit by a mysterious loan-shark duo — Avi, played by André 3000, and Zach, played by Vincent Pastore — Jake is drawn into a con far stranger and more philosophical than the standard Ritchie crime caper. It famously bombed on release and was savaged by critics, but in the years since it has earned a genuine cult re-evaluation, and I land firmly on the side of the believers.

Before getting into the praise, two things must be addressed. First: Jason Statham's hair and moustache in this film are a crime against the man's entire brand and I would like them stricken from the record. Second: Ray Liotta spends a significant portion of this film parading around in his underwear beneath tanning lamps, and that is an image that will outlive me. With those grievances formally lodged, we can proceed.

This is unmistakably a Guy Ritchie film, but a far weirder and more ambitious one than Lock, Stock or Snatch. Strange things happen. The narrative refuses to hand itself to you on a plate — it unspools gradually, demands your attention, and trusts you to keep up rather than spoon-feeding you exposition. There's a real philosophical spine running through it about the ego being the true enemy, and while I understand exactly why that alienated mainstream audiences in 2005, I found it genuinely engaging. It makes you think, and it rewards the effort.

The performances are where the film truly shines. Statham, in particular, has stretches here where he genuinely lets loose, and you catch glimpses of the actor he could have been given different material across his career. I'm a longtime fan of his work, but it's a treat to see him reaching beyond the tough-guy register he's so often boxed into. André 3000 is a quiet revelation — his calm, measured presence and understated energy command every scene he appears in. Vincent Pastore brings real menace; there's a moment where he pins Jake against an elevator wall with a single hand, and the strength and intimidation radiating off him in that beat is wonderfully effective.

I also have to single out the cinematography. Certain sequences are so striking in their camera movement that I felt almost hypnotised watching them — there were moments where I genuinely felt like I was on something, and rather than being distracting, it fit the disorienting, mind-bending tone of the film perfectly.