Dir. Steve M. Kelly, UK, 2009, 94 mins
Cast: Danny Dyer, Tamer Hassan, James Lance, Susan Lynch
Review by Carol Allen
This film is a study of loneliness and despair in the big city, in this case London, told through the interwoven stories of eight people.
The clearest narrative is that of Pete (Dyer), ex-con and former drug dealer, who is persuaded by Carol (Natasha Williams), mother of his former friend, to help her find out what has happened to her son. Then there's Jim (Hassan), who passes the time contemplating suicide by dropping melons from a tall office building to see how they smash and talking on the phone to semi-disabled hooker Gina (Lynch) about his despair. When he prevents Sammy (MyAnna Buring) from committing suicide, a relationship starts to develop between them. The reason for Sammy's despair is the break up of her relationship with would-be poet and artist Dean (Ray Panthaki), who lives in the flat under Gina's and fancies her as his muse. The fourth story concerns Olly (Kenny Doughty), who's locked himself in the gay closet and discovers, when in charge for the day of his autistic, deaf mute brother Chris (Lance), that Chris is also gay and totally happy with his sexuality.
With subject matter like this, the film is predictably downbeat. The way it cuts from story to story makes it initially difficult to get to grips with the characters but its main problem is that writer Simon Fantauzzo appears so enamoured with the cleverness of his structure and idea, which embraces virtually every dysfunction known to man, that he never really engages with his characters, who appear more like pawns in his game than real people. The actors though do their best to put flesh on these bones.
Dyer, playing a totally defeated version of characters he's played in the past, takes us into the grubby underworld of London drug dealers and Lynch draws on the well worn tradition of the “tart with a heart”. Hassan and Buring have touching moments as the two would-be suicides reaching out to each other and Lance, who is usually cast in very verbal roles, speaks not a word, as Olly leads him into London's gay community in an effort to help him lose his virginity, while at the same time trying to come to terms with his own nature. It's a fascinating little scenario but reeks more of writer's fantasy than truth. There's also virtually no humour in the film apart from one perhaps unintentional moment, when Pete is digging for what may be the remains of his friend on a piece of desolate wasteland and announces it may take all night. "I've brought sandwiches", says the mother.
The film attempts a sense of redemption in its resolution, which comes over as very artificial, including a final unlikely twist linking Pete to Olly and Chris. And though there are some impressive shots of the city skyline and an amusing sequence of Dean reciting his really rather bad poems to a street audience in Covent Garden, the film also never really captures any genuine feel of London life.
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