Donkey Punch: 2/10

A few weeks back I met a nice Jewish boy called David Bloom. He had a nice fiancee. He was well-spoken. And he had an interesting career: he's a screenwriter. His biggest success thus far, a 2008 Brit-flick called Donkey Punch. He was even a class-mate of a close friend. How very nice, I thought.

But having seen Donkey Punch, I'm not so sure. The title refers to what a man, when in flagrante delicto can do to the lady he's taking from behind (not up the arse - one of the few saving graces of this vile film), in order to accentuate his pleasure. Punching a girl in the back of the neck just as you're about to reach the point of no return causes her muscles to contract, apparently, heightening the pleasure. "What's in it for the girl?" asks one of the characters. "Nothing," is the implied answer. The same goes for watching this film.

The characters - from the slutty, good-time-girl students on the pull; to the Ali G-sounding, cleft-lipped, South-London-wide-boy who thinks he's a DJ, a drug-dealer and in the least bit attractive. He isn't, and he probably went to public school.

The sex is graphic. The violence, gratuitous, and the characters annoying. So much so, that by the end of it, you've given up caring about any of them.

Which begs the question: how does a nice, normal, northwest London Jewish boy come up with something as depraved as this? Either he has a vivid imagination, or he's seriously disturbed. I can only imagine what his fiancee thinks.