Locked Down: Review

Living through a deadly pandemic and economic crisis, all during the throes of late-stage capitalism that has seen some of the most obscene wealth inequality in American history, has been an absolute horror show to say the least. So a movie like Locked Down- a romantic-comedy about a couple ripping off a “really bad” billionaire during a COVID-induced lockdown- is exactly the kind of concept that could either be the balm of healing and glimmer of hope we all need, or the astringent salt in an already festering wound. Sadly, it is the latter. Indeed, the Doug Liman-directed film from a script by Steven Knight is exactly the kind of embarrassing example that people could point to if they wanted to cite the ways in which the “Hollywood elite” are so obtuse to proletariat struggles. They don’t always get it wrong, and they especially don’t always get it THIS wrong, but when they do it leaves a taste in the mouth so bad that even that delicious cheap wine from Trader Joe’s can’t douse. 

It’s especially discouraging because the potential was clearly there. In a year that saw the wealth of the top 1% inflate to record numbers while the median net worth of the average American family plummeted, I’m sure there are more than a few of us that have entertained the idea of sticking it to the wealthy ruling class. So what could possibly be more satisfying than stealing a £3 million pound diamond from a greedy elitist who is so rich, he would never even notice its absence? Not so fast though, because along comes Locked Down’s two protagonists who are so far and away from being the modern-day “Robin Hoods” that Steven Knight so desperately wanted them to be. His name is Paxton (an earnest Chitwetel Ejiofor trying to make the most of an immature, occasionally frustrating man-boy who just wants to wear his “Live Wild or Die Free” leather jacket while riding his motorcycle into the sunset), and her name is Linda (an annoying Anne Hathaway as the CEO of a designer fashion line, giving us an eye-rolling and aggravating vision of what Andy might’ve been like if she had ended up snagging Miranda Preistly’s job at the end of The Devil Wear’s Prada), and if it hadn’t been for the lockdown they would (apparently) be separated by now. They live in an affluent neighborhood in an upscale, polished apartment, and although Paxton has been furloughed (a fact that’s all the more anxiety-inducing for him since he also has a criminal record for aggravated assault that’s left his employment options limited), Linda still has her job and is able to do it from the comfort of her home over Zoom calls. And this is where the movie has its first letdown. Had the couple been two parents from say East Essex or Newcastle, both furloughed and struggling to raise their kids and keep the family together, it might’ve articulated a desperation that resonated more strongly with audiences. Instead, we have to tolerate this insufferable couple as they complain about first-world problems, such as leftover hanging tinsel from Christmas and craving a cigarette because the strain of two weeks’ isolation is just too much to bear, all while bickering and throwing petty jabs at each other through ridiculously phony dialogue. 

However, the movie probably makes its most insensitive offense with how it tries to almost lionize Hathaway’s character, a move that’s especially uncomfortable given she literally fires her employees over Zoom in the first act at the request of her even more shallow superior. Knight’s script attempts to gloss this fact during an especially cringe-worthy monologue where Linda relays to Paxton the moment she realized she had sold her soul to the gods of late-stage capitalism, comparing the experience to some kind of creature in a Garden of Eden that seduced her when it slithered up her leg, and she’s just been hating herself for it ever since (I’m dead serious.) It is such a jaw-droppingly awful scene, made all the more nauseating by the fact that Hathaway really tries to sell it, giving you the impression that she actually believes this tripe. Given she’s the one that still has her job and salary, it’s surprising (dare I say unbelievable) that she’s ultimately the one who wants to take something back from the billionaire elites while giving them the finger. That “thing” is a £3 million diamond that’s being featured in her current collection at Harrod’s, and she’s been tasked with having it shipped back to the original owner. That is, until she gets the bright idea to switch it with the very realistic replica that’s on display. And just like that, a plan is formed and a heist is set: They’ll walk away with the authentic piece, and the knockoff will be stored away in an overseas security vault where no one is likely look at it again for years. 

Not exactly a brilliant or intricately layered plan, which is probably why the actual heist never has the dramatic high-stakes tension that even comedies such as Ocean 11 were able to pull off with aplomb. Sadly, the worst part about their plan isn’t even how it’s executed on screen, but rather how they’ve decided to allocate the profits of £3 million. Because if you really wanted to inspire hope in the masses, our self-proclaimed heroes (who are sitting financially pretty during this pandemic) would use that money to solve as many of the world’s COVID-related problems as possible, right? Well folks, I regret to tell you that Steven Knight shall disappoint you once again. Linda comes to the conclusion that they’ll each keep a third of the money (a decision that feels even more selfish by the film’s end when both characters seem to have called off their divorce and are back together) and the rest will go to unspecified charities (although “the hospital” is insinuated to be a strong candidate.) So, £2 million for our bourgeoisie couple, and £1 for the rest of the needy peasants, which will probably be able to buy them a few extra measly days of oxygen while they’re hooked up to machines in the ICU. Makes sense, right? And with that, the couple begin their boring and very underwhelming “heist” at Harrod’s. If you thought the movie couldn’t possibly get any worse at this point during its final minutes, you would be mistaken. As soon as they get to Harrod’s, Linda runs into a few of her old friends and former coworkers. While trying to distract one of her friends, she tells a lie about how she’s “met someone,” to which her friend offers her congratulations because she’s been “single for so long” and it’s about time she finally met a nice guy. It didn’t hit me right away, but then I realized that Linda’s own friends have no idea that she’s been in an almost 10-year relationship with Paxton. So basically, the privileged white woman has been keeping her marriage to a black man with a criminal record a secret from most of her friends? Nice touch, Mr. Knight. Linda and Paxton then stroll around the magnificent department store, removing their masks here and there for no other reason but their convenience, even during a brief moment when they share an elevator with some of the staff. They eventually make their way to the store’s infamous food court, where they then begin stealing as many lavish delectables as they can carry, because it’s already going to be donated to the “most needy” anyway, and it just wouldn’t be fair if the rich were the only people they were stealing from, but the hungry as well! 

It’s takes a special kind of “out of touch” and disconnect to make a movie this crass and socially unaware, but that is exactly what the talent involved here have done. And on top of that, it’s almost completely devoid of any real entertainment value or pleasure. No wonder it was dumped on HBO Max, and with a January release date to boot. Locked Down officially sets the bar for the worst film of 2021, and I feel absolutely ashamed and embarrassed that I even placed it as one of my most anticipated films at the beginning of the year, even if it was in the bottom 10 in a list of 100. 

Grade: D-