V
>So when, in Guy Ritchie’s latest London gangster-land roundelay, someone calls someone else a “black cunt”, it’s very much by design. So much so that Colin Farrell spends the next few minutes of the movie talking about why it’s ok to call someone a “black cunt”, explaining, no less, to the young black boxer in his gym, why he shouldn’t be offended by it. “You are black, and you are a cunt,” he says. “Those are facts.”
>This knuckle-scraping (bottom of two smoking barrel-scraping) British cinematic moment in itself should be enough for you to know that The Gentlemen is a film made by cunts for cunts.
>No, Guy Ritchie, it is not OK to call someone that, and I don’t need minutes of your lumpen dialogue twisting the locker-room logic of “it’s only a bit of banter” into an excuse as to why I, or the poor young actors you’re bullying into it, should have to put up with it.
>Oh people will tell me to lighten up, that I’m a snowflake to get offended by it. It’s a laugh, isn’t it?
