Unmade Beds

Come to Hoxton! Frequent its many crowded, piss-stained sinkholes! Enjoy live entertainment from the hottest purveyors of whimsical folktronic sludge! Sleep in an authentic loft-space art-squat and have sex with pretty polyamorous pop-kids! Feel the achingly disinterested urban ennui leaking from every crack in the filthy, rain-soaked pavement! Because despite being young, staggeringly attractive and economically carefree in the world’s greatest city, the characters in ‘Unmade Beds’ are still, y’know, searching for, like, meaning and stuff.

Spanish squatter Axl (Fernando Tielve) is looking for his English dad. Fey French drifter Vera (Déborah Francois) is hunting for love. And surrounding them are a cavalcade of miscellaneous Eurotrash hipsters, alternately drinking themselves  blind, shagging themselves senseless or  reflecting on the wondrous misery that is their lives. There’s real promise in ‘Unmade Beds’: the photography is luminous, the direction loose but involving, the acting superb. But ultimately it’s a joyless, indulgent film about joyless, indulgent people, trying way too hard to be cool and consistently missing the point.