It doesn’t take long to spot scrappy Scottish indie Schemers’ biggest influence. Mere seconds in, under a thick-accented voiceover, the main character is running down a street towards the screen with a pursuer close behind, before the action is paused with a freeze-frame. Except it isn’t Ewan McGregor’s Renton doing the running (or voiceovering), and this certainly isn’t Trainspotting. Or even close to it.
The runner is Davie (Conor Berry), a Dundee kid with the gift of the gab who can’t stay out of trouble. Director Dave McLean is also Schemers’ producer and co-writer, now a successful rock promoter who’s worked with Placebo, Nirvana and Green Day — the parallels are clear.
It is, at least, a story told with a sense of self-knowing humour and a good ear for post-punk tunes. But that doesn’t excuse McLean borrowing heavily from other, better filmmakers (Danny Boyle chief among them), being over-reliant on his largely unnecessary narration, and employing hoary editing tricks (freeze frame! Photo montage! Rewind!) to try and paper over cracks created by an inexperienced cast and an ultra-low budget.
The main problem is that despite his deeply vested self-interest, McLean fails to make any of his characters convincing, interesting or likeable — least of all his hero: himself. Davie, truth be told, is a bit of a shit. He endangers his friends, shamelessly exploits his parents and shabbily treats his barely sketched outline of a girlfriend, Shona (Tara Lee). Naturally, they all put up with his cheeky chappie antics, forgive him, and do all they can to help him on his way to music biz glory. But you’ll be left feeling nonplussed as to why you were expected to care in the first place.