Two Northern Irish rent boys, earning a living in London, embark on a madcap treasure hunt, it says here.
Or, Confessions Of A Rent Boy. Narrator Kenny is a skint Irish lad visiting his friend Byron, who's squatting in London making Guinness money by blowing old queens in the local boozer.
When the murder of a local (Michael Praed) sparks rumours of hidden cash, the two embark on a madcap treasure hunt. Sexual favours and lifeless bodies abound, but Kenny's remorseless updates on the rising number of dead gay guys feel more bad taste than black comedy, and Byron's derisory exploitation of homosexuals is both unpleasant and unresolved.
There are moments of cameo-based amusement - watching Steven Berkoff shagging T'Pau's Carol Decker to death is not something you see every day - and some of the 'scene' gags may raise a smile from those in the know. Ultimately, though, this crime caper is all shocks and no heart.
Neither as gleefully offensive (to either straights or gays) or funny as it thinks it is, the only good thing to say about this is that it isn't your typical Guy Ritchie rip-off. But there the compliments end.