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Charming Miles Richard and chip on his shoulder Alistair Ryle arrive at Oxford to study history. The pair soon catch the eye of The Riot Club, a centuries-old secret society dedicated to dining, drinking an debauchery. It’s lucrative hedonism at its very finest and most extreme, and Miles and Alistair are having the time of their lives – right until the moment one fancy pub dinner escalates into a night of drugs, sex, and violence. Carnage and tragedy ensue.
It's a film that seems to have no further point than to remind us that some powerful jerks were once powerful jerk kids. Point taken, but it's not cinematically satisfying.
[A] lack of subtlety throws the film into a spiral of excess that knocks over any chance at intelligent commentary as it plows forward, drunk on its own narrative.
The Riot Club is, finally, a monster movie. Which I suppose is what some become who are too rich and powerful to be bothered with inhibitions or morality.