It's clear from the off that this is not so much an homage to Guy Ritchie, as it is an opportunistic mugging amid a dearth of originality. It takes a bloke-ish topic - greyhound racing (I guess it was either that, boxing or poker) - and three laddish young Irish guys (Messrs Cocky, Unlucky and Peaceful...gosh), then drags the plot through a series of contrived encounters with the usual Guy Ritchie ensemble; bookies, tough gypsies, hard men, loose women etc. All with the cliched goal of ending up with a big bag of cash at the end of the movie. There's some pretence that this is about the love of dogs, but their violent deaths are used as a 'joke' so often that this flick is clearly confused about what message it wants to send.
Along the way, we are treated to droll scenes such as the lads getting involved in a fertility drug trial, with predictable consequences, and hooking up with three 'foreign birds' (because they're easy, right lads?). As per the rules for bloke films, women are only allowed as sex objects and don't get to speak more than a line or two. Long, inconsequential blather between the lads act as filler along the way until, finally, the director throws in a Trainspotting rip off as the Lock, Stock theft runs low on returns. Low brow, paint-by-numbers comedy for the Lad Bible crowd. But in Ireland.
Along the way, we are treated to droll scenes such as the lads getting involved in a fertility drug trial, with predictable consequences, and hooking up with three 'foreign birds' (because they're easy, right lads?). As per the rules for bloke films, women are only allowed as sex objects and don't get to speak more than a line or two. Long, inconsequential blather between the lads act as filler along the way until, finally, the director throws in a Trainspotting rip off as the Lock, Stock theft runs low on returns. Low brow, paint-by-numbers comedy for the Lad Bible crowd. But in Ireland.