‘Pack your bag and a passport Ralphie, we’re goin’ to Spain...’
I’ve been very forgiving of the Rise of the Footsoldier franchise so far, mainly because the first three entries are genuinely a lot of fun. Even the brightest stars eventually burn out, however, and this fourth entry in the series is the moment everything goes pear-shaped…
For those keeping up, this is a sequel to the prequel which was Rise of the Footsoldier 3. Director Andrew Loveday has wisely realised that despite being killed off at the end of the first film, this franchise has no future without Pat Tate (Craig Fairbrass), Tony Tucker (Terry Stone) and Craig Rolfe (Roland Manookian). As the title suggests, we are in Marbella. Tate is in a terrible mood throughout. Tony and Craig are as fucking imbecilic as ever. And none of the new characters make any kind of real impact (which is part of the problem).
Everything about this sequel seems tired. While the first two entries had moments of dark introspection (particularly the first sequel), Marbella is a film that has little in terms of imagination or even humour. Things pick up whenever Terry Stone and his ridiculous wig enter the fray but everything else about this disappointing sequel is just crime-by-numbers. The fight sequences are uninspired. The soundtrack (New Order aside) is forgettable. There is also a cheapness here that robs the film of some of the animalistic intensity that made the first three films so enjoyable.
I understand the franchise picks up after this one so I’ll plod on with it but everything about these characters seems knackered at this point. The worst thing? I didn’t laugh once. Criminal.
