This improvised, no-budget British drama, about a group of ageing luvvies, who meet to scatter the ashes of a dead friend, has the cringe factor of watching your mum doing am-dram. It’s not all bad. There is something painfully honest and believable about the relationship of its central couple. Married for years, he’s a semi-successful actor who falls in love with every new leading lady. His wife passive-aggressively tolerates these crushes because he always comes back to her. Secretly, she’s half-hoping that one day he’ll bugger off for good so she can get on with her life. Neither of them is going anywhere. But the improv dialogue is toe-curling, and never-ending scenes of characters discussing their dreams or making cups of tea are enough to make you howl with boredom. Where are Judi Dench and Bill Nighy when you need them?