★★☆☆☆
“Is my cock exquisite?”, Dom Hemingway demanded to me and the entirety of the sixth form study area, the scratching of pens ceasing somewhat abruptly. Atleast, he would have done had the glorious invention of the inner-ear headphones not crossed my path sooner (I will never take those curly coils of irritation for granted ever again). With a corker of an opener like that – succeeded by a rather theatrical monologue surrounding the nature of Hemingway’s genitalia – you would expect bold things, hilarious things, great things to come. But Richard Shepherd’s gangster feature never quite tips the mark.
EYES OF BEL 