With this, Woody Allen looks like he has overextended his stay in England. The refreshment is gone. Less engrossing than Match Point, less engaging than Scoop, it spins a yarn of working-class brothers (Ewan McGregor, Colin Farrell, working their thespian tails off) who, in exchange for financial favors from a rich uncle, become literal brothers in crime, new to the game and unfit for it. Allen, writer and director, and absentee on screen, slides the chess pieces around on their felt bottoms, no friction, no deception, no hesitation, carrying out a telegraphed plan of attack. An air of detachment is the closest he comes to humor; a Dreiser-esque moralism spreads a wet blanket. One listens for his voice through the thick British accents, and one hears a frequent tone of whining and pleading, and just a snatch of highbrow chat about Greek tragedy. One looks for his fingerprints, and one sees a sedentary camera and a burnished surface. The spectator’s search for the familiar filmmaker generates most of the sparse suspense. With Hayley Atwell, Tom Wilkinson, Phil Davis. (2007) — Duncan Shepherd