This grubby British anti-shocker from first-time director Gerard Johnson brandishes a fetid promise it doesn’t always fulfil.
Tony is a clammy loner who traipses London streets making graceless conversation with hookers and junkies before returning home to his corpsestrewn flat.
Peter Ferdinando excels as the repellent killer, dripping with a greasy awkwardness that sets you ill at ease from the off.
The grimy visuals, carefully observed characters and fine supporting turns add further feathers to Johnson’s cap.
Yet despite a black vein of humour, the slow, directionless narrative leaves Tony looking like Dalston’s dour answer to American Psycho.