The slamming of a graffitied toilet cubicle door in London to Brighton's opening second sets the tone for this hard-hitting drama, set in the soiled underbelly of its eponymous locations.  As alternative views of places better known as the country's most popular and prosperous cities, it is classic British realism:  familiar territory trod many times before � yet expertly told.

Kelly (Stanley), a veteran prostitute, and 12-year-old runaway Joanne (Groome) escape the city for the seaside, fleeing an unknown incident.  The pair are soon pursued by Kelly's pimp, Derek (Johnny Harris), and menacing gangster Stuart Allen (Spruell), seeking recompense for an offence told gradually in flashback.

Since the 1960s, films have sought to give an insight into British life more accurate than that found in period dramas and the Ealing comedy.  As such London to Brighton finds itself the last in a long line of offerings like Nil by Mouth: now so popular they have become a staple of British television as well as its cinema.  This trend has at times threatened to become overused, seeming like empty rebellion against the perception of quaint English life, which nobody really believes anymore.

But if the setting is portrayed truthfully, without the false glamour of London mob flicks like Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels, and avoiding the predilection for shock value as found in Kidulthood, realism should not be written off.  Afterall, reality cannot be criticised, and if the story is interesting and executed well it becomes simply background.

London to Brighton achieves this, no doubt in part thanks to the quality of its actors.  Child star Groome provokes winces and smiles as she skips between the fa�ade of the guttersnipe and innocence of the child.  Stanley's maternal compassion for the runaway is similarly moving.  While Harris's Derek, who uses every trick of manipulation to get his way, is only bettered by Spruell's menace.  Such characters are very recognisable and would be blank stereotypes, was it not for this group of TV and bit-part unknowns who have made them their own.

The plot is similarly familiar.  But again the film has enough intelligence to get away with it.  With a script, skilfully representing the corruptibility of people by repeatedly showing them fail to refuse what they know to be wrong.  As well as asking whether this slow erosion of the soul can be redeemed.  Yet the film is far from musing, with a narrative driven by slowly revealing what happened the night before to cause the events now unfolding, and the trajectory towards catharsis. 
London to Brighton will hopefully not be refused a second glance because of its label as another 'gritty British drama.'  This it is, but its dramatic superiority holds it above the herd and makes it and first time director Paul Andrew Williams deserving of recognition.