Grappling in the goo for the delectation of a bunch of drunks, Sadie, Kong and the rest try their best to be hellcats, but (good for them) their hearts aren't in it. Even the mud lacks conviction. Generically a documentary - though hardly what John Grierson had in mind when he devised the term - this comes from Sullivan's metteur-en-scène period, between his nine-month stretch on an immoral earnings rap and his setting up the Sunday Sport. The disquiet and loathing it induces correlate to the aims of a Buñuel or a Vigo. This is not to be confused with a recommendation.