He owns a battered 1970s Chevrolet Nova which he drives like his dick's on fire. So he's not all bad.
These should not be confused with the Vauxhall Nova we had over here in Blighty.
Fucking hell, Britain. We really suck balls when it comes to cars. Aside from a few decent Rover models and high-end arsehole stuff like Bently and Jags, all our cars in the middle decades of the 20th century were shite. Even when we nearly got it right, like the Triumph Stag (arguably the best looking car ever), we still made a pig's arse of it by making sure all the engines were stuffed with cheese and the doors fell off.
Yeah, there was stuff like Marcos, Jensen and TVR, exciting, great looking machines, but they were cottage-industry, low volume production, specialist stuff. What the rest of the world understood that we were so slow to 'get', is that some people are into vehicles for their own sake, for fun, not just for transport, that were, most importantly, affordable, not just for the wealthy.
Instead, we had to pootle around in clouds of black smoke and rust in cars called things like The Austin Teacake, Woseley Arthritis, Alvis Tinwheeze and Morris Paedophile. Probably.
Even the supposedly fun stuff like MGs had the thrilling performance of a stairlift.
Bloody rubbish.
Anyway, yeah, Drinky finds himself investigating a murder off the books and gets dropped into a world of seedy criminality. It's cracking good fun. Well paced, good cast, good script, Clifton Collins Jnr (Gonzales Gonzales etc.) has some particularly funny lines.
**Squit**
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