By Tristan Bishop
There are many things intrinsic to British culture that have been imported from overseas – The Royal Family, the Patron Saint Of England – but primary among the significance to us Brits is the humble kebab, now so ingrained in our culture that it’s almost impossible to conceive of a night out on the lash without a visit to the kebab shop, so it’s almost surprising that it has taken so long for British filmmakers to cotton on. In fact, given the frequent media scare stories about huge salt and fat levels, not to mention all kinds of dodgy meats in our lamb doners, it’s even more surprising that the horror genre has taken until now to get its teeth into this particular pitta. Of course, the plot is a loose riff around the Sweeney Todd story, but K-Shop exceeds all expectations, and those expecting a low-brow gross-out horror comedy may be rather surprised.
Salah (Ziad Abaza) is a young man of immigrant descent whose father owns a kebab shop in a seaside town. When his father is taken ill, Salah finds his university studies affected whilst he helps out with the shop. His father dreams of opening a gourmet restaurant and keeps a hand-written book containing a business plan and recipes, with his eye on a vacant local property. However, tragedy strikes when the father is beaten up by a trio of drunken troublemakers and dies. Salah attempts to keep his father’s business going, but when he accidentally kills a difficult customer (who is trying to help himself to the food), he discovers that a great way to dispose of human flesh is by turning it into kebab meat (bones and clothes are later thrown into the sea).
More accidents occur, and as Salah starts to lose his grip on reality, accidents become intentional murders, and Salah starts to win awards for his world-class ‘lamb’ kebabs. However, he has not escaped attention, and a weed-smoking half Turkish teenager who takes a job at his shop starts to put together what is going on, and, worse still, a local celebrity and nightclub owner (an excellent, slimy turn by Scot Williams), who may have a few dodgy secrets of his own, starts to be become interested in what is happening in the local fast food joint.
K-Shop contains a lot of footage (most of it apparently shot guerrilla-style on the streets of Bournemouth) akin to one of those police documentaries about Brits-on-the-piss: public vomiting, sex, urination, fighting etc. This gives a sense of a town whose economy is based on night time revels, of which of course the kebab shop is a key ingredient; and it certainly helps to make the audience more amenable to Salah’s plight – at least, until he starts chopping up the bodies.
On the whole, however, the film is remarkably non-judgemental. Director Dan Pringle certainly shows a lot of sympathy for his main character, an intelligent outsider in an alien culture, and whilst the film has a lot to say about the excesses of British culture (Williams’ character is famous for being the first Big Brother contestant to have had sex on live British TV), and the way in which we view immigrants, it never feels preachy or particularly heavy-handed, so credit must be given to Pringle and his performers for creating something which works so well as a human drama.
Special notice must also be given to the score, which sounds at times like a lost My Bloody Valentine (the band, not the film) album, and achieves a remarkable sense of dislocation with heavy reverb and distortion, which mirrors Salah’s disintegrating mental state as he lashes at the inebriated, threatening world around him.
K-Shop is not without flaws. Even at just shy of two hours, it feels like some important moments have been edited out; what seems to be a developing romantic subplot feels curiously abandoned later on. But it is a remarkably impressive first feature, and one which manages to raise a smile with jet black humour whilst prodding the viewer to question their own behaviours.
K-Shop is in UK cinemas 22nd July, from Bulldog Film Distribution.