Stream It Or Skip It: ‘Operation Fortune: Ruse de Guerre’ on Starz, a Vanilla Guy Ritchie Spy Escapade

Operation Fortune: Ruse de Guerre (now streaming on Starz, in addition to streaming on VOD services like Amazon Prime Video) is officially the fourth pairing of director Guy Ritchie and his actor muse Jason Statham – their careers launched simultaneously with post-Tarantino violent snarkfests Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels and Snatch, and as of this writing, reteamed for their last two films, Wrath of Man and the current film at hand. I think the title Operation Fortune: Ruse de Guerre implies the potential of a series or franchise, what with Statham playing a character with the poetically mellifluous name of Orson Fortune, as well as that colon followed by a subtitle, which usually doesn’t happen unless there’s another movie out there about a character named Orson Fortune (which might be too good of a name to burn only one time for one movie). Of course, this all depends on whether said movie is successful – box office returns so far are modest – and/or any good, and we’re about to determine the latter point right here, right now, so let’s get to it.  

OPERATION FORTUNE: RUSE DE GUERRE: STREAM IT OR SKIP IT?

The Gist: This is where we’d outline the plot and what it’s all about, but let’s face it, you’re not gonna give two good god damns about any of it. It’s convoluted and silly and so so very much much ado about nothin’. It matters not in the least, because we’re not here to follow a MacGuffin. No, we’re here for the Guy Ritchie action sequences and Guy Ritchie voiceovers-over-montages and Guy Ritchie clever time-hops. And also the Jason Statham unflappable deadpan, the Hugh Grant late-career greasy smarm, the Josh Hartnett winking dopiness and the Aubrey Plaza eyerolls. Oh, the Aubrey Plaza eyerolls. Each one is the succulent, plummy nectar of the most elite breed of kumquat, so hilarious and delicious at the same time.

I should use megalodon-sized reductionism and say the story is Spy Shit, because it’s no more than that whatsoever. But as much as you’ll just shrug off the shenanigans as whatnot what ain’t worth paying much attention to, my job is to be a little more detailed, so here goes: There’s a thingamjig known as The Handle, whatever that is – no spoilers, yawn – and it’s in a briefcase, so at least it’s portable. It’s worth billions, and is in the possession of Greg Simmonds (Grant), an arms dealer whose most offensive traits are selling WMDs that are used to orphan children when they’re not also half-accidentally used to kill children, and his orangeish, Trump-like epidermis. He’s about to sell The Handle to the highest bidder and he doesn’t care who because he’s greedy and he knows he’s greedy and his not about to apologize for being greedy, since no one who’s that greedy ever does.

This just can’t happen, and Orson Fortune (Statham) is the man to stop him. He’s a free-agent spy with no life outside his work and appreciation for fine wine, and that’s where the character development comes to a screeching halt at the NO THRU OUTLET sign. He’s hired by Brit gov bureaucrat Nathan Jasmine (Cary Elwes), who has witty conversations with his boss, who’s not at all a notable character here but I have to mention him because he’s played by Eddie Marsan, although their conversations aren’t as witty as the back-and-forth Jasmine has with Fortune. Jasmine assembles a team to work with our guy in the title: Can-hack-into-anything-with-a-flurry-of-keystrokes tech wizard Sarah Fidel (Plaza) and deadeye sniper JJ Davies (Bugzy Malone), and Hollywood superstar action-movie actor Danny Francesco (Hartnett) gets roped into this nonsense because Simmonds is obsessed with celebrities and is therefore their key to the billionaire’s inner sanctum. In only the first hour the plot takes us to London, Burbank, Ankara, Cannes and Morocco, not necessarily in that order, but who’s keeping track? Me. I’m keeping track. Gotta do something between all the snappy edits, one-liners and miscellaneous clevernesses.

What Movies Will It Remind You Of?: It’s easy to point at other medium-watchable Ritchie fodder like Wrath of Man, The Man from U.N.C.L.E. and The Gentlemen, because Operation Fortune doesn’t, shall we say, transcend the norm. But outside the director’s filmography, the movie comes off more like a watery entry in the Mission: Impossible franchise.

Performance Worth Watching: Who told Plaza to be less funny than she usually is? (Note: She’s still pretty funny.) Perhaps she was contractually obligated to not upstage Grant, who’s shifted from stammering rom-com charmer to sumptuous icky-slippery villain and key member of Ritchie’s stable of actors. He’s wonderfully gross here, although it’s still not as wicked as his late-career-defining work in Paddington 2.

Memorable Dialogue: Decontextualized: “Turns out there’s a reason they call him the Dark Angel of Merciless Death, Mike!”

Sex and Skin: None. TBPJTOABAAACAMTF: Too Busy Private-Jetting To London And Burbank And Ankara And Cannes And Morocco To F—.

Our Take: Operation Fortune: Ruse de Guerre can be summed up in the following dialogue exchange:

“That’s imminent.”

“How imminent?”

“Imminently imminent.”

No, this doesn’t mean the movie is so good you should watch it imminently, and in fact I’m on the fence with a recommendation because the vanilla cleverness and repetition of the above back-and-forth reflects how Ritchie essentially repeats the vanilla cleverness of several of his prior films. Which is to say, there’s nothing to actively dislike here – it’s visually slick, crisply edited, populated with amused/amusing stars, not too over-the-top violent and not about anything at all of any import whatsoever. 

However diverting as it may be, it’s coated with a thin veneer of disappointment, as Ritchie errs on the side of caution in terms of tone, quality of action sequences and directing his cast. I recall how his flop King Arthur: Legend of the Sword wielded hyperbole like a shillelagh corning the living tar out of a side of beef, and Operation Fortune dials it down to flirty winking. This M.O. works for Grant’s subtle mucus-oozing as a billionaire gastropod, but it softens Plaza’s edge, leaves Hartnett tractionless, gives Malone next to nothing to do and fails to fully exploit Statham’s underrated comedic sensibilities (remember, he hung tight with Melissa McCarthy and Rose Byrne in the snappy spoof Spy). The cast’s presence is more than a whiff but less than a punch, which pretty much sums up the movie as a whole. It boasts its share of mild in-the-moment pleasures, but leaves very little to remember it by.  

Our Call: Operation Fortune: Ruse de Guerre offers modest escapist pleasures – a bit of witty banter, a glitzy car chase and an oleaginous Hugh Grant performance – but little more than that. It’s all but begging to not make you pay much to watch it. SKIP IT until the rental fee drops to five bucks or less.

John Serba is a freelance writer and film critic based in Grand Rapids, Michigan.