Anuvahood (2011)

Kenneth “K” Fletcher is an idiot (Adam Deacon). A loud-mouthed shelf-stacker who thinks he has the swagger, has the choons and is Gonorrhoea’s gift to women.  Victimised by the lisping Tyrone (Richie Campbell), a bully who routinely mugs Kenneth and his friends in between disturbingly ketchup dowsed sex sessions, the group grow weary of Kenneth’s penchant for attracting the bully’s wrath. Picking up an incredibly random Spanish tourist (Skins‘ Ollie Barbieri), Kenneth’s crew turn to drug dealing to save his exasperated parents from the bailiffs, only to find themselves once again in conflict with Tyrone. And this time he’s really pissed.

In 1964, the world was stunned to learn of the death of one Kitty Genovese, a murder victim in New York City. What marked the death of Genovese as special, and distinguished it from the innumerable other killings which took place that year, was the small fact that it had taken place over an entire hour and it was witnessed by in excess of ten different people. Anuvahood, accidentally stumbling though it does into social commentary, features a scene in which a youth is threatened at gun-point in front of a crowd of strangers, none of whom do anything to help. The only thing more surprising than the sheer power of  the ‘bystander effect’, is that it has any place in this misguided comedy. Anuvahood, you see, thinks it is as badman as its loudmouthed protagonist. It’s wrong.

The film opens innocently enough, with a failed musician refusing defeat as his album refuses to say. Quitting his job at Lamesburys (I kind you not) under the delusion that he is destined for ‘bigger tings’. While any conventional production would spend the rest of the running time turning this failure around and proclaiming the power of persistence, Anuvahood contents itself with a downward spiral that results in the aforementioned showdown. While you might deem such originality commendable, the film’s determination to be different results in a desperately fluctuating tone that deems itself above moral obligation. A clear graduate of the Mockney school of hyperbole and overacting, slapstick unexpectedly gives way to realism as drugs, violence and being an absolute pillock are glamorised to the point of disbelief.

As K loses his friends, bankrupts his family and pushes the English language to the brink, the life lessons – that teach honesty, integrity and being yourself – are taught in battle as K’s face is introduced to Daffy Duck’s fist. Suddenly the day-glow stupidity is gone, all that remains being a gratuitously bloodied face and a bitter taste in the mouth. In Anuvahood it is not respectability, intelligence or cunning that saves the day, it’s luck with an extra side of fist.

When it’s trying to be funny, Anuvahood proves a harmless waste of time that promises the odd giggle with a few insightful observations and a nice old slice of mockery. As it grasps around uncertainly for deeper meaning, however, Anuvahood broadcasts its subtext with all the subtlety of MICHAEL BAY and disfigures its morals in an inexplicable pursuit of edge.

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About popcornaddiction
I am a psychology graduate, a News Writer for HeyUGuys/BestforFilm and, most importantly, a hopeless popcorn addict.

One Response to Anuvahood (2011)

  1. Pingback: March 2011 – You made me…a period mix? « popcornaddict

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