Every Bottle of Alcohol in The Gentlemen Season 2, From a £47,000 Pétrus to Guy Ritchie’s Own Whisky

There are television shows where somebody orders “the expensive red.” Then there is The Gentlemen, where somebody cracks open Pétrus, somebody else dismisses a First Growth Bordeaux as corked, and an aristocrat retreats to his bedroom with a Macallan distilled in 1976. Guy Ritchie has never exactly been a warm-pint-and-house-wine sort of filmmaker. But Season 2 of Netflix’s The Gentlemen takes the drinks cabinet to slightly unhinged levels. So I went through the season looking for every bottle I could identify, every vintage actually mentioned and, importantly, every bottle that cannot be identified without making something up. And there are some monsters.

The headline bottle is a double magnum of Pétrus 2009, a three-litre slab of Pomerol that some merchants have listed at around £47,000. Then we get Masseto 1989, Château Mouton Rothschild 1989, Dom Pérignon 2008, a Macallan 1976 and, most interestingly of all, a ten-year-old English whisky from a distillery in which Guy Ritchie himself is a shareholder. That isn’t a props department randomly Googling “posh booze.” Someone involved knows exactly what they’re drinking. It’s the same trick I traced across a century of film in whether whiskey is Hollywood’s favourite spirit: the bottle tells you who the character is before they open their mouth.

There’s also an enormous Stella Artois partnership wrapped around Season 2. More on that later, because advertising around a television show and an identifiable bottle appearing inside an episode are not the same thing. Let’s get into the good stuff.

We may as well start with the nuclear weapon. Prince Amir arrives carrying a double magnum of Pétrus 2009. Not a bottle. Not a magnum. A double magnum: three litres of Pétrus, equivalent to four ordinary bottles, contained in one enormous piece of glass that essentially announces “I have arrived, and accountants are no longer involved in my purchasing decisions.” Pétrus comes from Pomerol on Bordeaux’s Right Bank and occupies a slightly strange position in the fine-wine hierarchy: it isn’t a First Growth, because Pomerol never joined the famous 1855 classification. Nobody particularly cares. In desirability, price and reputation, Pétrus operates in the same rarefied air as the greatest wines on Earth, and 2009 was hardly a rubbish year to choose.

Now, the money, and I want to be careful here because Pétrus prices are where wine writing goes to exaggerate. A standard 750ml bottle of 2009 trades at around €3,900. Large formats of great vintages are far scarcer than ordinary bottles, and scarcity goes a little feral once you’re dealing with Pétrus, so some merchants have listed a 2009 double magnum at around £47,000. But that’s a listing, not a sale: at auction, one sold at Bonhams for £14,880 including premium. So depending on whose website you believe, Prince Amir has brought somewhere between a very nice car and a Volkswagen in liquid form. Either way, this isn’t “I’ve brought something nice for dinner.”

If you’re wondering why Pétrus has achieved almost mythical status, scarcity is most of it: the vineyard is a little over 11 hectares of blue clay, production is tiny, and global demand is absurd. Pétrus doesn’t need a gold label, a wooden box or a man in white gloves to tell you it’s expensive. Wine people see the name and start quietly calculating their mortgage. Whether it actually tastes £47,000 better than anything else is a question I’ve tackled in does expensive wine taste better, and the answer is complicated.

Apparently one Pétrus wasn’t enough. Another bottle served during the episode has been identified as Pétrus 1998. Unlike the double magnum, this isn’t handed to us beautifully in dialogue; the bottle has been identified by wine observers examining the scene, so I’m separating it from the completely explicit bottles. But if the identification is right, it’s another sensational choice. The 1998 vintage was particularly celebrated on the Right Bank, where Merlot-dominant wines from Pomerol and Saint-Émilion had an excellent year, and Pétrus 1998 today lives comfortably in the several-thousand-pounds-a-bottle world. Which brings us to an important lesson about The Gentlemen: these characters don’t just appear wealthy. They drink like collectors.

Now we’re talking. Cico asks what happened to the Masseto, and we learn the vintage is 1989. For wine geeks, this might be the most interesting inclusion in the entire series. Masseto is one of Italy’s great cult wines, produced in Bolgheri on the Tuscan coast, and it’s made from Merlot, which makes its appearance alongside Pétrus particularly delicious. France versus Italy. Pomerol versus Tuscany. Merlot versus, well, also Merlot. Just don’t tell Cico. Masseto’s own records for 1989 say the Merlot was harvested on 28 September, fermented in French-oak uprights and matured for 11 months in barriques before another 26 months in bottle, and the estate’s later notes describe a mature wine with fresh fruit alongside truffle and forest floor. That’s an extraordinarily specific bottle to place in a gangster drama. Masseto is not the wine you choose because somebody in props recognises the label from Tesco. It’s the bottle you choose because someone knows their wine.

Masseto has effectively joined the tiny club of Italian wines traded and collected alongside the elite of Bordeaux and Burgundy, and that’s why putting it beside Pétrus is so good. It isn’t merely an expensive Italian wine. It’s Italy turning up to the Merlot fight with a baseball bat. If you want the wider map of what Italy can do, my guide to Italian reds is the place.

Then poor old Mouton gets insulted. The wine moves on to Château Mouton Rothschild 1989, which Cico declares corked. Imagine opening a First Growth Bordeaux, waiting nearly four decades, pouring it for dinner and having somebody announce that it tastes like a damp attic. Fine wine is glamorous right up until a microscopic compound called TCA ruins your evening. Mouton is one of Bordeaux’s five First Growths, from Pauillac on the Left Bank, and the château confirms the 1989 was 78% Cabernet Sauvignon, 14% Cabernet Franc and 8% Merlot. There’s a wonderful extra detail that makes this bottle perfect for The Gentlemen: every Mouton vintage carries artwork commissioned from a major artist, and the 1989 label was created by the German painter Georg Baselitz. So the characters aren’t merely drinking wine. They’re drinking Cabernet wrapped in collectible modern art. Mouton’s own notes describe smoke, toast, liquorice, spice and cedar, then fruit, vanilla, coffee and white pepper. Unless, of course, your bottle is corked. Then it smells like wet cardboard and sadness.

After the Mouton drama, a Barolo Riserva gets offered, and this is where I’m refusing to perform the traditional internet magic trick of turning incomplete information into certainty. We don’t get a reliable producer. We don’t get a reliable vintage. So it’s Barolo Riserva, producer unknown. Could it have been Giacomo Conterno? Bartolo Mascarello? Bruno Giacosa? Gaja? Of course. It could also have been something completely different, and until there’s a label frame clear enough to prove it, we don’t know. That matters, because “Barolo Riserva” isn’t the name of one wine: Barolo is the great Nebbiolo red of Piedmont, and Riserva simply denotes the longer-aged classification. It’s a wonderfully appropriate thing for an Italian wine obsessive to request. But I’m not going to invent the bottle just because a more specific answer would look better on Google.

There’s another little mystery buried in the episode: a bottle described simply as “the ’95,” apparently a favourite. The producer isn’t reliably established. This could easily tempt someone into assuming it must be another Pétrus, because there’s Pétrus all over the episode. Don’t. A vintage is not a producer. Until there’s stronger evidence, this belongs in the file marked “Very Expensive Wine We Cannot Yet Identify.” I rather enjoy that there is one.

Eddie wants a drink in his room. What does the Duke order? A supermarket Speyside and a splash of Coke? Of course not. He asks for “the Macallan ’76,” and that one line tells you almost everything about how alcohol is used in The Gentlemen. The year is doing the work. Nobody explains why it matters; Eddie orders it the way another man would say “the usual.” There’s a lovely Ritchie in-joke here too: in the original 2019 film, Hugh Grant helps himself to a Glenfarclas 1976, and in Season 1 Theo James decants a Dalmore 25. Ritchie clearly has a thing for 1976.

Which bottling, though? This gets complicated, because several Macallan bottlings exist using whisky distilled in 1976, so “Macallan 1976” doesn’t conclusively establish the expression. The obvious candidate is the classic Macallan 18 Year Old 1976, a sherry-matured single malt bottled in the mid-1990s at 43%, and the secondary market is serious, with recent auction data putting the 18 Year Old 1976 at an average of roughly £1,550 a bottle. But unless a frame gives us the complete label, I’d describe the show’s bottle as “The Macallan 1976, exact bottling unconfirmed.” That may sound overly cautious. It’s also the difference between research and fan fiction. Macallan sits at number one in my best whiskey guide for reasons that have nothing to do with the year on the label, and everything to do with what’s in the glass.

Finally, something you might actually find without refinancing the conservatory. Eddie sends a bottle of 2008 Dom Pérignon, and I love this choice because Dom is famous enough that virtually everyone understands what the scene is telling us. Champagne. Luxury. Money. Message received. But 2008 isn’t a random vintage pulled from the cellar; it’s one of the modern years collectors have taken extremely seriously, and the market is active: a six-bottle case of 2008 traded for £930 in bond on 2 September 2026 according to Bordeaux Index, literally the day before Season 2 arrived, which is about £155 a bottle before tax, though retail runs higher. Compared with Pétrus, it’s practically hydration. Dom Pérignon only makes vintage Champagne, so every release comes from a declared year, and 2008 has become one of those vintages Champagne people keep talking about. Quite right too. If you want the wider field, my best Champagne guide covers it, and if you want the one that out-flexes even Dom, that’s Cristal.

There’s another sparkling bottle in the restaurant sequence before the Dom arrives, and I haven’t found enough evidence to name the producer with confidence. Could somebody freeze the episode, enhance three pixels on the neck foil and announce it as fact? Certainly. The internet was built for this. I’m leaving it as “unidentified sparkling wine,” for now.

This is the bottle that sent me down the best rabbit hole. A character refers to whisky from Eddie’s distillery; the brand isn’t shouted across the scene, but the real producer has confirmed what we’re looking at. It’s Rosemaund Farm Distillery’s ten-year-old single malt English whisky, made in Herefordshire with heritage Maris Otter barley by master blender Tristan Stephenson, from the Chase family, the people behind Chase Vodka. And here comes the Guy Ritchie bit: Ritchie is an early backer and shareholder in Rosemaund. Suddenly the bottle becomes much more interesting. This isn’t an English whisky that happened to win the product-placement lottery. It comes from a company connected to the creator of the show. Rosemaund says Ritchie’s involvement includes challenging how the whisky is presented and how an English whisky brand should behave rather than simply imitating Scotch, which sounds, frankly, extremely Guy Ritchie.

Is it The Director’s Cut?

This is where things could very easily get misreported. Rosemaund’s newest expression, The Director’s Cut, launched on 1 September 2026, two days before Season 2, limited to 3,000 individually numbered bottles at 48% ABV and £126, blended from ex-bourbon, oloroso sherry and new oak casks. Lovely timing. However, Rosemaund’s confirmation says the bottle in the show is its ten-year-old single malt. It does not, as far as I can establish, say the bottle Eddie is drinking is The Director’s Cut. So I’m not saying it either. Not yet. What I will say is that a director backing an English whisky, writing it into the aristocratic world he created, and launching a limited “Director’s Cut” the week the show drops is either excellent brand-building or an extraordinarily cooperative series of coincidences. I know which one I’d bet a bottle on.

Now we get to the weird one. If you’ve seen the advertising around Season 2, you’d be forgiven for thinking Stella should be halfway up this article. Netflix and Stella announced “The Gentlemen’s Serve,” a global partnership ahead of the season: Theo James in character as Eddie Horniman opposite Stella ambassador David Beckham, running across the US, UK, Canada, Brazil, Colombia, Mexico, South Africa and South Korea, with Netflix calling Stella the first brand partner for the series and its first true multi-market campaign with AB InBev. There was even a Gentlemen-themed takeover of The Marlborough pub in London from 3 to 5 September, with engraved chalices. But here’s my problem. A marketing partnership with The Gentlemen is not automatically evidence that a specific Stella bottle appears in an episode. So unless I can clearly identify Stella inside the actual show, it stays outside the confirmed list. I realise this is catastrophically boring behaviour for a drinks website. Accuracy occasionally is.

Not everything comes with a collectible vintage. Across the season we also get an Espresso Martini (no identifiable vodka or liqueur, so it belongs in the cocktail column, not the bottle list), a Bloody Mary (a drink, not a named bottle), and several sparkling-wine scenes where I haven’t found enough visual evidence to responsibly name the bottle. That’s the dividing line throughout this guide: if the show names it, it goes in; if the label can genuinely be identified, it goes in with a note; and if we’re guessing, it doesn’t magically become fact because the guess sounds plausible. The wine world has been burned badly enough by confident guesses about labels, as anyone who’s read about Rudy Kurniawan will appreciate.

The more interesting question isn’t what they drink. It’s why these particular bottles, because the selection is unusually smart. Pétrus is obvious billionaire wine and Dom is obvious luxury Champagne, but then someone throws in Masseto 1989, Mouton 1989 and Macallan 1976. These aren’t just recognisable brands; the vintages themselves matter. And look at the geographical storytelling: the French bottles are the greatest names in Bordeaux and Champagne, the Italian character gets Masseto and Barolo, and the English aristocrat ends up associated with English single malt. That’s far more interesting than putting ten bottles of generic “premium whisky” on a drinks trolley. The booze is helping tell us who these people are, and it’s exactly the scarcity-as-status game I picked apart in why whisky has a Rolex problem.

Impossible to calculate exactly, because several bottles are unidentified and fine-wine values depend enormously on provenance, condition, tax status and format. But let’s not pretend this is a modest cellar. The Pétrus 2009 double magnum alone is somewhere between £15,000 at auction and £47,000 on a merchant’s wish list. Add a mature Pétrus 1998, Masseto 1989, Mouton 1989, a collectible 1976 Macallan and a 2008 Dom, and we’re comfortably looking at a drinks selection worth tens of thousands of pounds, potentially a great deal more depending on the exact bottles and formats. And that’s before anyone corks the Mouton.

If we’re talking value, not the Pétrus. If we’re talking pure flex, absolutely the Pétrus. If we’re talking the bottle I’d most like somebody else to pay for, I’d take the 2009 double magnum and develop a sudden interest in having lots of friends over. But the bottle I find most interesting is Masseto 1989: a nerd’s choice, and putting an old Masseto among Pétrus and First Growth Bordeaux says somebody understands that the upper reaches of Italian wine are every bit as capable of emptying your bank account. The cleverest placement, though, is Rosemaund.

What wine does Prince Amir bring in The Gentlemen Season 2?

A double magnum (three litres) of Pétrus 2009, explicitly named on screen. A 750ml bottle trades around €3,900; the double magnum has been listed at up to £47,000, though one sold at Bonhams for £14,880.

What whisky does Eddie drink in The Gentlemen Season 2?

He orders “the Macallan ’76” in Episode 2, most likely the Macallan 18 Year Old 1976, though the exact bottling is not confirmed on screen. In Episode 6 the whisky from his distillery is Rosemaund Farm’s 10-year-old English single malt.

Is Guy Ritchie’s whisky in The Gentlemen?

Yes. The Rosemaund Farm Distillery whisky seen in Episode 6 comes from a Herefordshire distillery in which Guy Ritchie is an early backer and shareholder, confirmed by the producer.

Which wine is corked in The Gentlemen?

Château Mouton Rothschild 1989, a Pauillac First Growth with a label by Georg Baselitz, which Cico declares corked in Episode 1.

Does Stella Artois appear in The Gentlemen Season 2?

Stella Artois is the season’s official brand partner via the “Gentlemen’s Serve” campaign with Theo James and David Beckham, but a marketing partnership is not the same as a bottle appearing on screen, and this guide only lists bottles identifiable within the episodes.

BY VIM, EDITOR OF 12×75. Bottles are listed only where named on screen, clearly identifiable, or confirmed by the producer; unidentified bottles are flagged as such. Prices are indicative and vary by merchant, condition and tax status. Please drink responsibly.