The life story of Howard Marks is not one that hides its light under a bushel. Since the original publication of his candid autobiography, it has been toured around the country by the man himself for the past decade. While the book read like an enjoyable, stoner Bond-adventure, this effort to translate it to the big screen comes across a little smug, and somewhat tired. Rhys Ifans sleepwalks through the role, and the direction is unimaginative and unevocative, despite the apparent efforts at authenticity. Somehow, Marks’ knockabout book seems more pacy than its 116-minute offspring. A little more energy all round would’ve helped it not drag so much. Disappointing, like a weak reefer.