Powder Room is a small British film all about women and starring only women — boo-hoo, men; my heart bleeds for you all — yet it is almost entirely set in a nightclub, so whether you enjoy this film may depend on how willing you are to spend 90 minutes in such a club along with all that thumping music and the flashing lights and the scrabbling to get to the bar. As a rule, this is how I’d feel about such a prospect: I’d rather shoot myself in the head. However, I accept this doesn’t hold true for everyone and, from what I’ve learned over the years, I suspect it doesn’t hold true for most Spectator readers, who are out clubbing until all hours most nights of the week. Also, if you can put up with the thumping and the flashing and the scrabbling, you’ll find this is quite a neat take on how women talk and act plus it confirms what I have always thought: a ‘good night out’ is usually anything but, and you’d have been better off staying in to watch Masterchef.
Deborah Ross
What it’s like to spend 90 minutes in the women’s loo of a thumping nightclub
Powder Room portrays, in an interesting way, young women desperately trying to have a good time while actually having a miserable one
issue 07 December 2013
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