Mucking with Movies: ‘The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare’

If Robert Rodriguez is Quentin Tarantino’s less cool but crazier younger brother version who’s willing to jump off the roof just for the gag, then Guy Ritchie is the preening, red-headed step-cousin who gets kicked in the shins twice a week.

So blatant is his lack of originality throughout his direction of “The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare” that we have to count the rip-offs from “Inglourious Basterds” on two hands: costume, score, bloody humor, both the title cards and the typeface used for said title cards, the time jumping, accumulates with a big party/event being turned to bloodshed, and even an undercover girl being courted by Nazi Heinrich Luhr (Til Schweiger, who played the Basterd Hugo Stiglitz in Tarantino’s flick). But of course, at least Tarantino was skilled enough to make Shosanna (Melanie Laurent) a full-dimensional character rather than the manic pixie-dream-girl-trope Ritche made Marjorie Stewart (Eiza Gonzalez) out to be.

“The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare” is indubitably entertaining, I never caught myself counting the minutes, but it is an empty pastime. 

I’ll provide an example of the mirroring that I believe really shows the skill discrepancy between the two directors: the big slip that blows the Americans’ cover.

Tarantino creates a whole mini-story in his moment, the “This is the German Three” reveal. The “fighting in a basement” setting created an elevated tension from the jump, but then that is further heightened with the Nazi officer being introduced and forcing the spies to play the card-guessing game. There is then the immediate realization the officer conveys when the British agent puts up the wrong three with his fingers, but we don’t find out how he knew until the next scene after the action, and that beautiful mini story has reached its resolution, and we have been pulled in further. 

In Richie’s version, we got all of that series of reactions and emotions in just a couple minutes. Stewart sings a song at the aforementioned big event party, and while she does, her German slips into Yiddish and while neither she nor the audience realizes the mishap, Luhr does. She’s still singing the same song when he tells his nearby Nazi brethren that they’ve “caught a Jew.” This isn’t a spoiler; I’m not giving anything away that Richie doesn’t just give away. There’s no story there; it’s just the setup and punchline of an open-mic comedian. Boringly simple. 

The action scenes are also directed dully, without much intrigue and, thus, not much excitement. It reminded me of a late-era Call of Duty single-player game campaign, where one charges through whole camps without much resistance or thought. Movies are best when you forget the camera exists. When the audience becomes so entranced that the camera exists as their third eye.

The first thing I ever learned in a film class was at New York Film Academy — before they threw me out for fighting with an editing teacher — was when a different teacher with a thick Italian accent told the class, “I am going to teach you every rule for filming, and then you’re going to have to learn when to break them.” A camera is supposedly not meant to move unless somebody or something is pushing the frame, but it has to earn the right to break that law.

The unmotivated movements in “Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare” are so jarring that whatever little immersion we can achieve is immediately shattered. It never earns the right — it never even tries. Scenes come and go without rhyme or reason, without a connective flow to connect them. No scent to keep us sniffing through the story thread. 

The most entertaining in this basic entertaining flick is Alan Ritchson as Anders Lassen. As far back as “Blue Mountain State,” anybody could see that he was willing to commit to the bit and play against type for charm’s sake. Able to deliver his pulpy banter in a bubbly manner, he can bring even the most mundane moments to life. Everything flows around him, dragging the normally tedious Henry Cavill to sheer delight. 

I was never bored with the movie, and that’s admirable. With a few friends at home watching on a streaming service, it would be fun to watch and crack jokes about together. But, to fork over a smooth fifteen bucks for the privilege and pleasure of seeing on the big screen is just not worth it. 

Critic Score: 4.5/10

Jack Simon is a mogul coach and writer/director who enjoys eating food he can’t afford, traveling to places out of his budget, and creating art about skiing, eating, and traveling while broke. Check out his website jacksimonmakes.com to see his Jack’s Jitney travelogue series. You can email him at jackdocsimon@gmail.com for inquiries of any type.