Fords on Water

Two London kids, one black, one white, are cast into the outer darkness of the dole. But as this duo leave behind the night-locked city, speeding northwards in a stolen motor, it's soon clear that Bliss' first feature celebrates resistance not resignation; and that with its lustrous, colourful images and laconic screenplay, its jump cuts and jazzy score, it owes less to drab naturalism than to the moody poetry of Neil Jordan's Angel, spiked with Nouvelle Vague verve and nerve. There is much to enjoy: an irreverent sense of humour, a great saxy soundtrack by Angel composer Keith Donald, and above all an upbeat ending that has Thatcher's flotsam cheekily waving, not drowning.