A group of young men in an Oxford society that is a thinly-disguised Bullingdon recruit new members and set in train their initiations and various japes. This culminates in a welcome party that skips from debauchery into Dionysian rage. The two new recruits are an odd couple, a kind of good snob/bad snob pairing who share a tutorial and have facile arguments along Tory/Labour lines. The problem with all the chundering and punting antics of these spoiled clowns is that it is too easy a target. The Riot Club wields too blunt a scalpel to be incisive social commentary. And it just isn't funny or bizarre enough to be biting satire. The ten members all seem to flounce around in a similar fashion and become indistinguishable from each other. Thank the stars one was Greek which allowed for a degree of differentiation. Live long enough in the UK and you will come across arid, prickly Oxbridge graduates with their insular sneering and extensive on-parade vocabulary. They form a particular insidious tribe in UK society and the system of boarding schools and privilege that breeds them is ripe for excoriation. Unfortunately, this film takes aim and misses by a ridiculous mile.
Review of The Riot Club
