<em>'Marching Powder'</em> is exactly what one would expect from a Danny Dyer (and Nick Love) movie. I'm a little split on how I feel about it though. Most of the comedy is quite lazy and forced, though a couple of jokes did get a chuckle out of me; e.g. Dagenham. The fourth wall breaking is questionable, it kinda works for a few moments but is mostly ill-fitting and cringey. On the other hand, there is surprisingly one touching scene; it involves Kenny Boy on the blower, I genuinely felt it in the feels - very unexpected for a movie of this sort. As for the cast, Dyer is mostly good in the lead role; far from perfect, but he gives largely what you'd anticipate. Stephanie Leonidas does well, while Calum MacNab is initially iffy as the aforementioned Kenny but ends up being one of the better aspects of this 2025 release. All things considered, I think I do have to file this one under 'average' - rather than 'good'. It's somewhat of a close call granted, but I do believe that the cons outweigh the pros. The deciding factor is the plot, which basically finishes as it starts; barely any progress is made.

Hats off to Danny Dyer for at least putting his heart and soul into this, but as a piece of cinema it’s poor, stereotypical and derivative of just about every other film he has been in - and a few that he hasn’t. “Jack” is having a bit of a mid-life crisis as he realises that he’s nearer the end than the beginning and hasn’t much to show for it. His wife “Dani” (Stephanie Leonidas) reckons he’s a waste of space and his daily regimen of lager and sniff isn’t likely to change that anytime soon. A bit of routine football hooliganism sees him in front of a magistrate who gives him six weeks to get himself sorted out, else he is going to prison. Can he wean himself off his old habits and try to be a better person/husband/dad? Maybe Nick Love thinks that a constant stream of expletives makes for a good watch, but this was just puerile. There’s not an hint of subtlety, no depth to the characterisation and without a doubt, the best bits are in the trails. “Jack” is a thug with few likeable qualities, and the strength of the drama between him and his wife is thrown completely under the bus when an incident with their son (Arty Dyer) should have put an end to the whole thing, but somehow just gets forgotten as what passes for a plot marches on. The whole thing has a 1980s look to it - attitudinally and aesthetically, and the occasional witty asides to the camera soon wear thin as we are presented with a slew of folks you’d cross the road to avoid. There is some humour in the script, but nowhere near enough to sustain this for what seemed like a lot longer than 90 minutes. A definite victory for hype over substance, powdery or otherwise. Sorry.