City of Tiny Lights

Synopsis: 'City Of Tiny Lights' is a witty gumshoe in contemporary (sub)urban London. When Asian Private Eye, Tommy Akhtar, is put on the trail of missing hooker, Sexy Russian, he begins to expose a series of dark secrets that reveal uncomfortable truths about Tommy's own past and London itself.
Genre: Crime, Drama, Thriller
Director(s): Pete Travis
  1 nomination.
 
IMDB:
5.4
Metacritic:
55
Rotten Tomatoes:
55%
Year:
2016
110 min
94 Views


Hey, boss.

Yo, you all right?

20 Golds.

All right, this is it.

People got a lot of names

for someone like me

The way I see it,

I deal in the lies people tell

and the truths they don't.

I deal in secrets.

I dig them up or I bury them

forever.

I've been doing that

for at least half my life.

You see that?

Quick on your feet.

That's the first

principle of greatness.

Quick feet had nothing, unless

you keep your head still.

And you've got to know the

exact location of your off stump.

Right?

- Oi, Are you listening?

- Dad.

It's what I call

your moral compass.

Once you know its whereabouts,

you can do whatever you please.

Yeah, okay.

Us immigrants, we've got to be

better than the locals.

Who are you calling an immigrant?

Shot!

What was that?

King Viv!

Where?

Let me see, ya bugga.

The old man reckons you can learn

everything you need to about

life from the game of cricket.

Not sure how much it helped him

when he fled Uganda in '73

with nothing but a bag and his

army revolver under his jacket

just in case.

He was in the uh,

King's African Rifles.

I think he still got

the gun somewhere.

Did you see that range?

A super shot, beautifully positioned.

- What a monster.

- Merciless, man.

Dad.

Yes!

Pills.

Off the back foot this time.

That languid flow of the bat.

Glorious stuff.

All right?

Where are you going?

I'm going to work.

The last ball of the 50th over and

he's finished it off nicely with a six.

We've all got our stories,

our lies, our secrets.

They say the truth

will always out.

Well, I hope not.

I'd be out of a job,

for a start.

There you go.

People call me a snoop.

And they call me a lot worse.

Your door was open.

No worries.

Come in, Miss uh...

Chase.

Melody Chase.

How'd you find me, Miss Chase?

I've got an app, Mr. Akhtar.

Natasha, my flatmate.

She's gone missing.

- She Russian?

- What?

Hookers.

Orientals are adjectives.

Happy, Lucky, Smiley, whatever.

Black girls are musical nouns.

Harmony, Jazz, Melody.

And um...

Russians just sound Russian.

- Ford cars, from back in the day.

- What d'you mean?

Black girls. I know

a Seirra, a Capri, a Fiesta.

- You're funny.

- You have no idea.

Natasha, she met

a client yesterday.

Never came home.

I'm worried.

He was a new client,

so we met him together.

Two pairs of eyes.

That's the rule.

- At the Tunnel, Mayfair.

- Mm

I had a drink with him.

I left about midnight.

So, what's he look like?

Middle-aged, suit,

another Paki.

I've got photos.

Nice.

- What's this?

- Hotels we use.

My rate's 300 a day plus expenses.

That's the best I can do.

What?

What would you charge?

I charge 300 an hour.

I'm in the wrong game.

She's been gone what, 8 hours?

Don't you think

you're being a bit paro?

Well, I do.

A lot can happen in 8 hours.

Well, Miss Chase, I'll uh...

be in touch.

Mr. Akhtar.

Oh crit, check out boy, man.

- You all right, Mrs. E?

- Hey!

Um, he's in trouble again.

Would you mind

talking to him, Tommy?

- Me?

- Avid will listen to you.

We need to singe this, bruv.

Yo fam, you got a fag?

You shouldn't smoke.

Smoke? I don't smoke.

I blaze.

Fools like this

need padding, bloke.

D*ckheads, man.

Reasonin'.

Where's my money?

And the rest?

- Going to Mayfair.

- Mayfair?

Yeah, I know. I'm

moving up in the world.

I'm looking for a friend of mine.

Supposed to be checked in here last night.

Let's go.

- I'm wondering if you can help me.

- Sure.

I'm looking for a friend of mine.

Hi, I was hoping you

might be able to help me.

I'm looking for a friend of mine.

- Supposed to be checked in here last night.

- Yeah, I'd seen her.

- Yeah?

- Mmhmm.

- Any idea what floor or room?

- Um, room 512.

- You sure? Thank you.

- Mmhmm.

- That's for you. Take care.

- Thanks.

Yeah, Big John, bingo.

Don't wait for me.

F***.

Housekeeping.

Hello?

- Double Turk, no ice.

- Sure.

Here you go.

Hello, which emergency service

do you require?

Hello, police, please?

Police emergency,

how can I help you?

Yes, I would like to

report a murder, please.

Tommy f***in' Akhtar.

Oh f***.

- Shelley.

- Tommy.

- You're back.

- Yeah.

- How long?

- Couple of months.

- You never...

- No... I meant to. I was just...

I really meant to.

You come here every year?

Thank you.

Em...

Oh, come.

Come now.

Em, this is Tommy Akhtar,

we were...

We were friends

a long time ago.

You knew my dad?

Yeah.

Fancy flowers.

From Lovely, innit?

Always showing off.

I've got this new job.

You should come by.

Come on.

I'm Shelley.

Yeah, you're Stuart's girlfriend.

Yeah, Stuart's girlfriend.

You're in my English class.

Yeah, of course.

I recognize no words like,

what was that "episodic allegory"?

Remember that?

I dunno. I guess it's my dad.

You talking to my girl?

No, I was just... joking.

So, um, you Churchill Massive

or what?

- Yeah, of course.

- C'mon, then.

What are you playin' at?

That's not very friendly.

All right, sit down.

Tame sh*t, bruv.

If you wanna knock one out,

you need to go online some.

- It's work.

- Course it is.

- Lets give it up.

- Yeah man, take a toke.

Hey, what the f***, Tommy, man!

My office, my rules.

Fags only.

You kissing the teeth? I got

bog roll more abrasive than you man.

- What'd you want?

- I don't want nuttin.

Mum told me to

come round here.

Said you wanted to

talk to me or suttin.

Did she now?

Yeah. I mean I think so.

She's all like, Avid, do this,

Avid do that.

Or don't do this,

or don't do that.

F*** it. Why the f***

you laughing though?

That's extra, you get me?

That phone is lame.

This is evidence.

But, don't know the PIN.

Give it here, man.

Piece of piss.

The default- 1, 2, 3, 4.

Come on, bruv,

everybody knows that.

- All right, send it.

- Hold on.

There's an SD card.

Oh, it's locked.

Got a decrypt?

- What?

- Decrypt.

Don't know what

a decrypt is?

Keep up bruv. I'll take

it, yeah? Rip it easy.

All right.

You should let me

work with you, man.

Tommy and Av.

T.A. Confidential.

You get me?

Your mum would love that,

wouldn't she?

Yeah, she's all over you.

Just go easy on your mum, yeah?

All right?

Yeah, man.

All right, go on, piss off.

All right, later.

All right then, jump up there.

All right, I call it a tight rope.

Initiation.

We all done it, innit, twat?

Of course.

Yeah, today.

C'mon, Tommy, let's go.

You look forward to

joining our gang, yeah?

- Who's that?

- Go on, Tommy!

- Atta boy!

- Are you mad?

I ain't scared.

Get down!

Keep going.

You're almost there.

Go on son, keep going.

Go on Tom.

Go on son.

Go on Tommy, keep going.

Tommy, just get down!

No!

This is Hafiz Ansari.

Please leave a message.

Thanks, Mr. Ansari,

you've been very helpful.

We'll be in touch.

- Is everything okay?

- It's fine.

You all right? Is Lovely there?

I mean... Hafiz.

F***in' Lovely.

You all right, Lovely?

No one's called me that in time.

I bet.

Some cheeky cigarette, man.

Wait, is that your dad's office?

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Patrick Neate

Patrick Neate (born 1970) is a British novelist, journalist, poet, screenwriter and podcaster. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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