In this artsy-fartsy imitation of Pulp Fiction, a diamond gets stolen, and a mish-mash of murderous, moronic mobsters go on a mission of madness through merry old England in search of it. This group (or is it gaggle?) of unlikable misfits bounce from pawn shop to gambling parlor to unlicensed boxing arena like a sledgehammer on a trampoline. They leave a trail of mayhem, dead bodies, and empty shell casings so wide, even Scotland Yard could follow.

Written and directed by none other than Mister Madonna (Guy Richie), Snatch asks the titillating question: Diamond, diamond, who's got the diamond? With all that money backing him, one would think Richie could develop a few warm characters, a decent story line, and a plot. But nooo. Unlike the real Pulp Fiction, Snatch offers none of these elements.

It did contain a cast of idiotic bad guys. And tagged with such colorful names as Franky Four Fingers (Benicio Del Toro), Bricktop (Allen Ford), and Bullit Tooth Tony (Vinnie Jones), I thought I might be in for a surprise. Well, surprise, surprise. The characters possessed no charm, left no lasting impression and delivered no intelligible dialog, unless you consider profanity intelligible. They used the "F word" so many f_ _ _ing times, I thought I was at our family reunion.

The missing 84 karat diamond and the dog (both wonderful actors) almost steal the show in this comedy/drama (easy, stomach). But Brad Pitt saves the day. His portrayal of Mickey O'Neal, the Irish gypsy/trailer park vagabond/diction expert, makes this movie (or at least a small part of this movie) tolerable.

Duped into a fixed fight in an unlicensed boxing match, One Punch Mickey KOs his opponent and makes himself very unpopular around the illegal betting parlors. The bad guy betters with their Einsteinian intellect can't figure out the equation for making a fortune in the fight game -- BET ON MICKEY, YOU MORONS. Instead, they dump all their ready cash on the opposition and lose, lose, lose. Then they go after Mickey.

Except for the dog part and the Brad Pitt part, this movie gives Bad a bad name. I'm surprised the theater didn't provide complementary barf bags. I give it an "F."

Dixie says: I hated a lot of things in this movie. I hated the dialogue because I couldn't understand what they were saying. I hated the unnecessary use of the "F word" because I could understand what they were saying. But I hated the bad guy with the bad teeth most of all. I kept thinking, "Please, someone snatch me out of this theater before I lose control of a body function."

And normally I hate tattoos, but on Brad Pitt's body, they looked like works of art. I'm glad I got to see Brad and his tattoos. I give him a "B" for beautiful. The rest of the movie, I give a "Z," because the alphabet stops only 20 letters past the "F."

Don & Dixie Mitchell

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