If you like your crime capers served with a side of resentment, a dash of dysfunction, and a drizzle of dry gin, Riff Raff might just be your kind of nasty little cocktail. Streaming now on Hulu, it’s a sticky-fingered family reunion that plays out like a poker game with rusty revolvers and too many grudges. Dito Montel directs with an eye for chaos and clenched teeth, drawing out sharp performances from a cast so loaded you’d think someone was smuggling Oscars across state lines.
Ed Harris, as Vincent, shambles through the film like a man who once knew how to kill quietly and now can’t even mow his lawn in peace. When his ex-wife Ruth (Jennifer Coolidge, cheetah-sleek and just shy of homicidal) reappears with old flame and older secrets, the plot kicks its boots off and starts swinging from the ceiling fan. Coolidge is a revelation here—less Legally Blonde, more legally unhinged—her Ruth bristling with regret and retribution.
The cast clicks most of the time, even when the script’s gears grind like bad brake pads. Gabrielle Union adds some needed steel as Sandy, Vincent’s current wife, and she’s got enough heat in her glare to melt every ounce of passive aggression Ruth throws her way. Lewis Pullman’s Rocco is all twitchy loyalty and bottomless daddy issues, caught between a girlfriend who doesn’t trust him and a legacy that’s more body count than inheritance. His scenes with Emanuela Postacchini’s Marina have a pulse, but not quite a heartbeat.
Bill Murray strolls in as Hannigan, crime boss emeritus and professional manipulator, dispensing crooked wisdom like confetti at a funeral. He’s great fun, when he’s not making you squirm. Pete Davidson’s Lonnie is his goofball henchman, a guy who’d trip over his own extortion scheme, and Michael Angelo Covino brings understated menace as Johnnie, Hannigan’s icy son. If Murray and Davidson had their own spinoff, you’d watch it, but you’d also keep one eye on your wallet.
The plot—“former crook haunted by family ghosts”—is about as new as a detective’s trench coat, but Montel slathers it with just enough grime and cleverness to keep things interesting. The reckoning doesn’t play out cleanly, and that’s part of the charm. There’s double-crossing, rooftop shouting matches, and emotional backstabbing so sharp it might as well come with a warning label. It’s a slow burn at times, flirting with melodrama, but the payoff’s decent even if you see it coming from across the street.
Montel’s direction is hit-and-sprint. He nails the smoky tension and gives the film a sweaty, streetlamp glow that feels lived-in and vaguely dangerous. But pacing? That’s another story. A few subplots get stranded in no man’s land, while others barrel forward like a runaway hearse. You can’t shake the feeling it needed one more pass in the editing bay—or maybe one less henchman.
The themes dig at blood and identity: how the past haunts the present, how love curdles into debt, and how no one in this family ever learned to keep their mouths shut at dinner. There’s some thoughtful stuff tucked between shootouts and betrayals, especially in moments where Harris lets Vincent’s weariness speak louder than his fists. It’s not subtle but gets under your skin if you let it.
Is it an effective crime thriller? Mostly. It won’t make you rethink the genre, but it riffs on its riffs with just enough style to earn your time. The violence is mean, the dialogue crackles like a bad idea, and the cast gets to play with broken toys and bruised egos. The movie doesn’t quite stick the landing, but it knows how to fall gracefully.
Riff Raff may not reinvent the wheel, but it throws a wrench in it, drives it off a bridge, and lights a cigarette while watching it sink. It’s messy, moody, and more than a little mean, but if you’re looking for something crooked and sharp, you’ll find enough here to keep your cynicism fed and your popcorn handy.
Grade: B+. Streaming on Hulu.
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