A clumsy but admirably grimy attempt to make a London-set noir that tries hard to seem current but already feels out of touch. Aidan Gillen plays a man grief-stricken by the death of his son who finds himself in a feud with a gang of violent local kids. In an attempt to up the noir angle, Still is laced with awkward Homeland-esque jazz interludes and scenes so dark it’s difficult to see what’s going on. But the plot is largely uninteresting, and a last-minute revelation is too little too late. The title is about as forgettable as the film.
