Yo! Bum rush the show! Don’t diss me in my ‘hood. F***.
There. That’s the dialogue of this movie dealt with.
It is utterly astonishing to me that clothes have never been cheaper and better quality and that – despite this – people in London might choose to dress like poor street hoodlums in a bad part of New York City. But, there you are. Pink velour, navy hoodies and tracksuits rule. A great suit costs £29.99 at Matalan, yet let’s choose to dress like a poor American street urchin. Why?
Such is life. Adam Deacon has made terrific movies and will make others. There are Brit stars here, in the form of Richard Blackwood, Jaime Winstone, Lethal Bizzle, Paul Kaye and Linda Robson.
Basically, there are three funny minutes in a 90-minute running time. The spirit of “Kidulthood” and “Adulthood” has been diluted in favour of endless sight gags which will bore you.
Unless, of course, you are a London kid longing to be a New Yorker. In which case, you need psychiatry and not a review.
This is stupendously bad. At the Stratford Picturehouse, most were silent. The six guys sitting in front of me smelled worse than anyone I have ever met in the whole universe, ever. Fortunately, I had perfumed towelettes. Otherwise, dear reader, I might have died there, of olfactory asphyxiation.
Avoid this. Or just giggle through it. But, please, shower or bathe regularly.
I suppose I should be grateful for some strong performaces by women. But I am just bitter that I lost time watching this. The music is not bad.