After sporting pointy ears and a blond wig and trading wisecracks with a grouchy dwarf for the past three years, Orlando Bloom's first solo gig should pique the interest of his ravenous followers. Set in South-east London, Bloom's place of birth, this low-budget boxing comedy is as far removed from Middle-earth as you can get, and sadly it's a disappointment all round as none of the integral elements of the film - script, acting or direction ù gel quite as well as they might, and what's left is an over-stylised advert for milk.
While initially looking promising (mainly due to the potentially exciting presence of its superstar-in-the-ascendant leading man), the film takes a sharp nose-dive with the arrival of a series of irritating and tired old characters, gravely overacted. The foreign,cigar-chewing, nonsense- spouting boxing manager, Herbie, the drunk old Irish trainer, masseur mother, slutty girlfriend - really, you couldn't find a sorrier bunch of clichés if you tried. Although tightly directed and utilising ambitious jump-cut editing, it's ultimately the script that leaves The Calcium Kid reeling. We've met these characters a hundred times, only they were much, much funnier before.