Brought to you by the makers of 1999’s much-loved Brit-hit Human Traffic, SW9 often plays like its predecessor’s older, more world-weary sibling. Its thematic preoccupations may be similar, but it’s a less frenetic and free-wheeling affair, displaying a markedly darker and more thoughtful approach to its subject matter.

Essentially, it’s the story of five twentysomething strangers whose paths cross over the course of a 24-hour weekend period in Brixton, which lends its postcode to the film’s title. South West 9 has at its centre a mysterious CD-Rom, drug-dealing, a head-expanding dosage of acid, internet subversives, corporate espionage, a jumbo-sized bag of pills, and (true to Godard’s diktat) a couple of girls and a gun. The resulting film is hardly fun-loving enough to appeal completely to Human Traffic devotees, but it does compensate by providing a grittier and more mature take on the E/clubbing scene. The reality quotient is upped considerably by the use of non-actors and documentary footage of war filmed by director Parry in his prior incarnation as a war-zone cameraman.

SW9 also provides impressively restless visuals, skipping from one format to another and incorporating 35mm film, CD-Rom, digital video and a tab’s-eye view of acid travelling stealthily towards the brain. Such visual flair can’t always compensate for the film’s frequently awkward dialogue and uncertain script, replete with annoying voice-over. Still, if far from a masterpiece, the film’s decidedly anti-capitalist sentiment makes it a generally worthwhile exercise, and a welcome change from the recent British proliferation of Lock, Stock & Two Smoking Barrels knock-offs.