5 out of 10

Release date: 21st October 2013 (DVD Premiere)

Director: James Nunn (The Eliminators / Tower Block)

Cast: Scott Adkins, Jack Doolan, Kacey Barnfield, Joey Ansah, Spencer Wilding, Josh Myers, Roberta Taylor, George Russo, Carlton Leach with Billy Cook and Mark Wingett

Writer: Ronnie Thompson



I have to confess to not having seen Green Street 2, but I did see the first Green Street movie when it was released on the cinema. It  was jaw droppingly bad and inauthentic, hobbled by bad accents and a confused and miscast leading man Elijah Wood.  Green Street 3 has a tiny advantage in that the lead actor is Scott Adkins – who can actually half-convince as a fighter. He also has unrealised potential as a comedian as Green Street 3 is one of those rare films, a bad film that is actually so bad it’s funny. I watched it with my wife and a few friends and we were laughing all the way through it.  Shame really because it wasn’t designed to be funny at all.

Green Street 3 starts with Danny’s (SCOTT ADKINS – RE-KILL) brother (son of David Essex BILLY COOK – TRAVELLER) getting himself killed in a meet between soccer firms. Danny’s come to lead his old firm back to glory whilst finding out who ‘did’ his bruvver. On his return he realises that the fights have gone underground and are now quite organised – taking place off the street so that the police involvement is minimal. Also money can be made by running a league not unlike the actually players’ league. Danny has a hunch that his brother’s killer is a firm leader – so he trains his own firm up for the greatest showdown the fight league has ever seen.

Like a dopey spoof of Fight Club – Green Street 3 revolve around a series of tournaments and endless scenes of our heroes downING beers, singing at the top of their voices, slow motion fights and some hilarious montages in the gym. Mark Wingett (THE BILL) even pops up as a Burgess Meredith-Rocky style sea-dog trainer type in a Boston Strangler beanie. I half expected to see him sat cross legged sat on Scott Adkins back as the latter does press-ups. There’s a great scene in which Danny calls for his fellow thugs for a jog in the morning – the montage sees 1 jogger fade up to a team of 10 running in slow motion towards the camera. Poor Jack Doolan (MAY I KILL U?) continues his trawl of bad movies in search of a break as Gilly, the previous leader of Danny’s firm. Elsewhere in the cast we have a saucy lady Molly the bar maid (KACEY BARNFIELD – RESIDENT EVIL 4) who’s been wheeled on as a supposed love interest. She gets to flash her loo loos at Danny and then is pretty much sidelined for the duration. Producer and fight choreographer, Joey Ansah (UFO) turns up as a policeman who used to be Danny’s best pal. He has to prove that he’s still ‘got it’ by kicking a can of John Smith‘s off Danny’s head – in another piece of comic genius. The soundtrack is also to blame for the disproportionate levels of laughter aimed at Green Street 3. During the montages there is a lightweight cover version of Survivor’s ‘Eye Of The Tiger’ and a mad synth rock tune called ‘Pushing Back’. So with about 7 montages to get through this is almost a musical by default – what with all the football chants as well.

The cinematography betrays the fact that someone with a degree of talent was employed behind the scenes. Flood lit scenes and nicely lit night shots are prevalent and up the production value of the film exponentially – but on the whole the shonky acting, non-existent script and the endless training scenes strand Green Street 3 in the cheap bins. Even the fight scenes are sub-par. And there’s no excuse for this as the ultra-cheap Ten Dead Men‘s fight scenes proves you don’t need money to feature excellent and well staged combat. Scott Adkins’ onscreen fight skills are usually more fluid and acrobatic than the ones on display here. Maybe that was the intention because Danny isn’t a bounty hunter like his characters in The Expendables 2 or The Tournament for instance. Still, it was all clunky. I’m also recalling a fight scene in which an extra charges across the screen (left to right) mid-fight with someone on his shoulders yelling at the top of his voice! Pure comedy. Luckily Green Street 3 is punctuated with so many unintentionally funny bits I can recommend it on the basis that its entertains.  It does end with one of the best Schwarzenegger-style pay off lines I’ve heard in many year – so for that alone it gets ‘1’ extra point.

5 out of 10 – Diabolical, but so unintentionally funny you have to watch it with friends. The Hooligan Factory has got its work cut out if it wants to be the funniest film about Football hooligans to come out of the UK.  Nice to see Scott Adkins in a UK film all the same.

Read JOE PESCI II aka MATT USHER’s Review Below!!!



One thought on “GREEN STREET 3


    Matt Usher’s review….

    I have not seen the other GREEN STREETs and I shall not watch GREEN STREET 4 should it happen. And yet GREEN STREET 3 has much commend it. Indeed, it has moments touching on pure genius. Purest comedy gold. I suspect hilarity may not be the film’s intent, but it delivers.

    Danny (Scott Adkins, who seems a nice bloke, and is therefore comically miscast as a very angry young gentleman) is back from Scotland where he beats up burly blokes for a living (I think). His little brother, a deeply objectionable little oik by the name of Joey (who is a hooligan supposedly following West Ham Football Club) has managed to get himself killed, and Danny is out for revenge. Back in the day Danny was the leader of a group of hooligans by the name of the Green Street Elite (or GSE as they tend to chant, making it sound like they’re celebrating a school qualification or an electrics company). So he goes back to the group’s HQ, an east London pub, in order to find answers. There he encounters his improbable replacement, a podgy and bored-looking Jack Doolan, and Danny puts his clever plan in motion.

    Believing Joey to have been murdered by evil non-West Ham hooligans, Danny finds that hooliganism has changed since his day. No longer is it a matter of just smashing a bottle over someone’s head (even though his opponent has just threatened to ‘shove your bums up your arses’), these days hooliganism has got intelligent! Yes, apparently those devils are organised: each week, after the footballers have done their footballing, the rival fans gather in the same underground carpark (regardless, it seems, of where they are in the country) and have a big fight. They’ve even come up with a league system. Danny’s ambition is to see the Hammers rise to the top of the league (though his secret agenda, remember, is to find his brother’s killer).

    But where are the police in all this? Well, Danny’s best mate is a copper (Joey Ansah giving a performance which may be politely described as stilted) and he’s on the case. No cliché is avoided in this sub-plot. He hits the bottle, his boss is on his case, and he gets suspended. He’s even got an eager yet useless partner. He does no actual detective work yet for some reason he is being warned off the case. Frankly the character is superfluous, yet he is on screen for the film’s two big highlights: (1) his parting line is one of those lines which took but a second to write but will live in the memory for decades, and (2) he karate kicks a can of beer off Danny’s head (to prove he’s still got it) (why one would need such a specialised skill never becomes clear). Meanwhile Spencer Wilding, a large man of menacing aspect and no apparent acting ability (he even seems to stumble over his lines), turns up as the villain of the piece (he’s a clever one though – he convinces Danny that one of his pals is the killer by showing him a photo).

    The film degenerates into a sequence of music videos as Danny does training, Danny does fights, Danny does more training, Danny looks sad, Danny has sex, Danny does more training. The best of these are the training montages, with Mark Wingett turning up as Pistol Pete, trainer extraordinaire. But even better is the scene where Danny collects his team: we see him running down the road with a weary Jack Doolan, then we cut back and there’s three, five, eight of them; it’s a bit like THE BIRDS.

    The resourceful film-makers have taken a leaf out of the old TV series Footballers’ Wives: at no point do we see any football being played (except for a shot of some little kids kicking a ball about, presumably to remind us of the purity of the beautiful game), but this is not a problem thanks to the endlessly inventive substitutes: bad fights. These fight scenes are comic spectaculars: watch as hooligans clash (a dozen of them masquerading as mobs of hundreds) accompanied by a chorister warbling an angelic heavenly hymn (I guess it’s meant to be ironic) (indeed, most of the soundtrack is decidedly eccentric); gasp as one hooligan charges across the screen holding another hooligan above his head, flailing his arms like a damsel in distress; look on in awestruck wonder at the opening fight scene as our hero dispatches a couple of Scottish henchmen who seem to have arrived like a couple of burly Buddhists about to give tribute. It’s all very weird. And there’s a brilliant bit at the end where the bad guy is thrown into a metal barrier, clattering to the ground and trapping two extras who squirm amusingly whilst Joey Ansah delivers his killer line. Indeed the extras, bless ‘em, really make this film something special. They’re really enthusiastic, and are often more fun to watch than the actors.

    Like all fight movies, the underlying homoerotic content is undeniable, and at one point even bubbles up to the surface as our troubled hero, still in the arms of the obliging young lady (Kacey Barnfield, definitely a future Eastender) who has been employed by the film-makers to copulate with him (they do give her a backstory involving her brother’s emigration, and we know she’s feisty because she mildly beats a bloke up at one point, but I don’t think those are the reasons for her presence), suddenly finds himself dreaming of a bunch of drunken old men who seem to be celebrating his virility.

    GREEN STREET 3 wants to be an angry bit of violent exploitation nonsense. It is not. It is a sublime and delightful comic send-up of the hooligan genre, a serious exploration of Freudian issues involving homosexuality, and a joyous celebration of the vital importance of knowing who your friends are, so you can team up with them and beat people up.

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