If Hollywood is the western world's city of films, then London must be a small, distant village. Every village needs an idiot.
Anyway, this is a Danny Dyer film.
I'm trying to picture his face, but all I'm seeing is A pint of lager wearing a West Ham shirt, with twenty Bensons floating in it as it swaggers around telling people to 'Leeev it aaaaht, Shirley' and other such rubbish.
I dunno, the film's actually got an interesting idea going on and I'd be lying if I said it didn't hold my attention. So, yeah, not bad.