Ìý User Rating 
Contains strong violence, language and drugs use
A low-budget British thriller that's all mouth and no trousers, The Late Twentieth is a tale of vigilante violence and gun barrel justice that outstays its welcome almost before it's begun. Self-styled as a noir thriller but without a single thrill in its thankfully-short 79 minutes, it's an appallingly incompetent first feature from a novice filmmaker who was clearly trying far too hard.
After a masked gunman kills his girlfriend in a supermarket hold-up, The Man (John Webber) takes the law into his own hands and starts killing bad guys. He's quickly banged up in a psychiatric facility, but escapes back onto the streets of London where he witnesses slime ball cocaine dealer Tom (Justin Allder) murdering one of his female hangers-on in broad daylight. Convinced that the world has lost its way, The Man gets a shotgun and prepares to play judge, jury, and executioner all over again.
"TORTUROUS EDITING"
Judging by all the swirling camera movements, torturous editing, and pretentious artiness, the ink on Hajaig's film school diploma must have barely been dry when he stepped behind the camera. Field-testing every conceivable trick in the filmmakers' handbook, he manages to infuriate, bore, and annoy us within the first ten minutes.
Recently, low-budget British cinema has been experiencing something of a revival, with films such as a Christie Malry's Own Double-Entry and This Is Not A Love Song making the most of limited cashflow to craft interesting alternatives to the mainstream.
"FILM NONSENSE"
The Late Twentieth is unlikely to be welcomed into even such rough 'n' ready company, though. As the cast of amateur dramatics rejects stumble through circular dialogue exchanges ("I need to talk to you"; "Not here, tomorrow"; "We'll talk tomorrow"), stylized meanderings, and pointless flashbacks, it becomes obvious that this isn't anyone's idea of film noir, just film nonsense.
