Marching Powder – Review

Cert – 18, Run-time – 1 hour 36 minutes, Director – Nick Love

45-year-old Jack (Danny Dyer) is given six weeks by the court to fix his life, marriage and find work – however his cocaine addiction and love of a footie-based punch-up threaten to send him to prison.

While there may not have been many people in the audience for the screening of Marching Powder I was at there was a clear split amongst them. That split being me and pretty much everyone else. I’ll acknowledge that I’m not the target audience for Marching Powder, and that those who are likely to see and enjoy it probably, and rightfully, won’t be unswayed; if you liked the look of the trailers you’ll probably enjoy the film.

While gags relating to the likes of Harvey Weinstein, Andrew Tate and the sexual experience of nuns may have been met with a mixed response, those relating more to scattered political jabs, or those towards British towns, got a chuckle out of me even if noone else. The bluer, c-bomb filled – the leading reason for the film’s 18 rating over the unmentioned drug use in the BBFC description for the film – material, however, seemed to get a better response from others in the screening who the film perhaps played more to. It’s all part of the laddish character of 45-year-old Jack Jones (Danny Dyer), who has been told by a court judge that he has six weeks to get his life together or else he’ll face up to five years in prison.

While telling himself that cocaine and drink are out the door, and repairing his marriage, with wife Dani (Stephanie Leonidas) – whose sole purpose largely seems to be just for Jack to win back, yet when she seems most pivotal her character is largely pushed to one side – is a priority. However, temptation frequently calls him back, especially in the heat of a football-rivalry scrap. Addiction in these cases seems less a big dramatic point with serious consequences and more just a point of Jack’s life, and those of his dealer friends; largely played for laughs when the use of cocaine is at the centre of a scene. At times you can feel the film wanting to make a more serious point about addiction and drug use, but it shies away not wanting to break out of the mould that it’s provided for itself.

To some extent this means that Jack actually seems to have little development over the course of the film. By the time we get to the final stages there’s almost a sense of disappointment in him that after what’s been shown and how we’re apparently meant to feel about his relationship with Dani there’s just sympathy for there as he almost arrogantly seems to have shunned any change of progress, and we’re meant to cheer that. Dyer himself is good and Leonidas puts in a solid turn with what she’s given, but their characters find themselves caught in a cyclical mix which begins to feel like a set of mixed messages.

Jack’s brother-in-law Kenny Boy (Calum McNab) has just been released from a psychiatric hospital, with Jack often looking after him. We’re told that he might be bipolar or schizophrenic, often he’s played for laughs before causing trouble by attacking people involved in drug deals like a low-level, unmasked, back-alley vigilante. However, the back-and-forth nature of his behaviour and the way the film presents it comes with an air of uncertainty – similar to that surrounding certainly lines of dialogue such as a randomly thrown in “does that mean you’re woke?” when someone says they’re from Woking – the switches feel harsh and sudden, as do certain elements of the character in general, and, once again, largely seem to be present to back the actions and experience of the main character’s journey.

Yet, perhaps the most prominent issue throughout Marching Powder is the fact that much of the time the laughs simply fail to appear. The style of humour is clear and it may well work for the target audience and, again, those who liked the look of the trailers, but often the barrage of f-bombs, and frankly overuse of c-bombs, mixed with exaggerated laddish phrases and humour fail to take off and get a response, although the joke is clear to see. There’s a good deal of the film which simply feels uncertain and in need of delving a bit deeper, but gets side-tracked by the eventual unevenness and back-and-forth of both its narrative treatment and central character.

Those who like the look of Marching Powder will almost certainly have a good time, for those unsure of it, it’s best to avoid its uneven nature when it comes to its presentation of more dramatic elements, while comedic beats often fail to get a response, despite the efforts of the two solid central performances.