Powder

It’s rare that you watch a low-budget British indie and start to wish Danny Dyer would crop up to lend it some gravitas and vision. But such is the case with Mark Elliott’s lumbering and amateurish adaptation of Kevin Sampson’s 1999 rock ’n’ roll novel, ‘Powder’. Clearly aspiring to mimic the crisp, taciturn likes of Anton Corbijn’s ‘Control’, but coming across like ‘Hollyoaks’ going to V Festival, the film messily charts a rivalry between chugging radio rock darlings, The Grams, and techno-infused emo poseurs, Transbad Saints, fronted by a man who clearly takes fashion tips from Julian Clary circa 1988. Aside from the fact that each cast member employs a different style of acting, this is drably shot (Ibiza looks like Clacton), slackly edited and detached from any recognisable reality.