F inancial traders in the movies are usually hubris personified, while boxers are a sure-fire vehicle for an underdog story. Writing, and playing, the role of reformed city fraudster turned pugilist Danny Goode, as well as directing the low-budget British drama that results, Mark Hampton sets up a potentially fertile collision of these two opposed elements. But cornering himself into an ultra-earnest tale of redemption, he lets his film absorb a few too many cheap cliche shots.

Danny is released after a three-year stretch for cooking the books; and, as a former high-rolling member of a late-night/early-morning gambling crew called the Breakfast Club, he now must accept diminished circumstances. This means a poky rental flat and, after his licence to trade is revoked, a restaurant job was

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