England is overrun by pedophiles and only a vigilante mob can handle the situation. Ava (Yvette Rowland), sensational TV journalist becomes a witness of her daughter's rape and murder and has no legal recourse.The film started out as a decent crime grindhouse and falls off a cliff when Yvette Rowland comes into the picture. Horribly scripted.Guide: F-word, sex, male nudity.

I don't know about you but watching paedophiles cry cheers me up no end . The greatest feel good show in the history of television was and remains TO CATCH A PREDATOR. If you thought that show was a little bit too tame for its own good then there's plenty paedophile stings you can watch on youtube where a bunch of concerned parents go under cover on the internet pretending to be young teens and turn up to meet an online groomer to give them serious verbals before the police turn up to arrest the groomer. Seeing the synopsis to MOB HANDED I thought I'd be watching a fictional slightly more extreme form of this where violent vigilantes extend their concern to execution. This isn't how the story unravels Starting with a disclaimer that the views and opinions expressed don't necessarily reflect the views of the film company the first scene features a man masturbating over computer images. A gang rush in to an office , kidnap and execute him. It's very convenient that this film starts at this moment and you're not supposed to ask how in reality the gang knew to crash the office at this point. After all films have their own sense of reality but within a very short period of time you come to the realisation MOB HANDED has an air of reality (I use that word in its most ironic sense)never seen before in the history of cinema. There's a paedophile Illuminati and a Tory MP is kicking out against the establishment using a death squad to liquidate these nonces . If a Tory MP was using death squads to liquidate the unemployed I'd have no problem thinking it was a fly on the wall documentary but this is no documentary. I could go in to details involving plot turns but unless you've seen this deranged, insane straight to DVD rubbish you wouldn't believe me. I can only guess at the motives of the producers1) It's an extension of Chris Morris satire "Nonce-Sense" 2)It's done as a favour to budding film makers in that they can give MOB HANDED to producers and say " If this film got funding then any screenplay can get funding, so fund my movie guv" I might have given this film one out of ten but gets an extra point for being unforgettably awful BTW if you're making a movie involving concerned law abiding citizens taking the law in their own hands don't cast real life gangsters and a convicted murderer in your movie

I was recommended this film by a friend, who had seen it and spread the word because in his words "you need to see how horrendous this is." Its like a lucky dip of absolute mess. The lead actress Yvette Rowland appeared in another rotten film of the same ilk called "Killer Bitch", which featured British porn stars who acted her off the screen, she was so bad. Amazingly she's even worse here.There's an episode of Only Fools and Horses where Rodney Trotter is making a student film, and Del Boy is getting money off a bunch of people around the city to star in it. I can only assume this is how the casting process went here. There are people from every kind of Z-list TV area in this thing. Half the cast of the Bill shows up, I imagine because Celebrity Big Brother wasn't interested that month. Former child actors who haven't worked in years and haven't seen down the lens of a camera since they were caught stealing from Poundstretcher. Dave Courtney pops up in a tank. What?! Daniella Westbrook and Dirty Den arrive to bring the star power. Either Leslie Grantham hasn't got any work coming in anymore or he's on a mission to do something so embarrassing on camera that people forget about him sucking his finger on a webcam.Basically the plot is that there is a pedo on the loose, who killed the daughter of the lead actress and now she's out for revenge. Only she portrays all the emotion of someone who isn't pleased that someone left the iron on. There's a lot of cockney accents saying "fakin' slag." The actors in this make Danny Dyer look like Laurence Olivier doing Hamlet. Its the pits. I was jealous of some of the torture scenes in this, because all I could say to the TV was "you don't know how good you've got it mate." The funniest thing about it is that the lead actress is listed as "producer" as well. If the whole film was meant to build up to that punchline then this film maybe knock off This Is Spinal Tap as the funniest movie ever. What a brilliant build. Either than or she's dating the bloke who is funding it (which seems way more likely), because there is no other way she'd be hired by anyone else to act.You should watch it. It may be the worst film ever.

God, where to start. First, i want to state that i have a lot of love for director Liam Galvin's feature debut Killer B*tch. One of, if not the only low budget British genre film of recent years that i re- visit without the feeling that i'm wasting my life on this arena of tax rebate shysters and am-dram hardens with RED's. Finally, out of this self-important, self-inflating filmmaking sub-culture, someone came out with psychotronic majesty. A film for the ages, time will show Killer B*tch to be the perfect time capsule of this era of independent British filmmaking. Not only are all the usual suspects responsible for the era (like in Mob Handed) are in front of screen, it's humour and vulgarity make it guaranteed it will find it's audience. Now, with his second feature.... It is really difficult for me to review this film. On one hand, it's pure tabloid style exploitation filled with righteous, populist anger like Fight For Your Life (1977) or Tenement (1985), sincere with it's aggression without forgetting to entertain as well as "inform". On the other, it's a open call to murder, or at least very convincing of being one. No matter if the targets are pure scum. A subject matter so grim is at odds with the fist through glass through face directorial style and makes for an uncomfortable ride, which is the point i guess, but come on, you're killing these c**ts by motor-cross and Tank, then try to tell a sincere story about a mother's loss of her daughter. Pick an angle! I guess I'm at that point that every fan of exploitation cinema dreads reaching when their limit is met and approach material that is just "no, that's just wrong". Whether it's the goat feeding in Top Sensation (1969) or near everything in Nekromantik (1987) or a certain piece from Serbia whose, let's be honest, only lasting legacy is going to be installing xenophobia in people, boundaries are met and those who laugh, laugh a little too hard. Mob Handed meets that boundary for me. Yewtree and the V.I.P scandal have uncovered revelations that have put firm nails in that notion of a Great Britain. Moral exceptionalism that justified concentration camps in India and the Troubles is now rightfully seen as the barbaric mindset that it was and the exposure of these elite scum is going to serve well to further push Britain, kicking and screaming, into the 21st century. A braver, less oligarchical nation, hopefully. The issues raised in Mob Handed are ones that DO need to be raised in British cinema and TV. A Savile biography for instance, is essential, not as an attempt to heal permanent scars, but more a national apology, a time capsule of the establishment saying sorry for allowing such evil to fester. Mob Handed goes in some ways towards being this apology. But however, it's too reactionary and pitchfork provoking to be seen as a serious text and investigation into such matters. I question the amount of research that went into the script. A sentence i would have slapped myself over when attempting to describe Killer B*tch. However, this is the game Galvin wanted to play, even going so far as to devote the film to abuse victims in the end credits. Contradictions was one of the reasons why i liked Galvin's debut so much; their sheer volume and their place within a variety of departments. Accomplished (probably) licensed soundtrack, yet impoverished sound design. Sympathetic female lead, yet misogynistic humour throughout. Self-referential, forth wall breaking humour yet a narrative riddled with clichés. Beautiful stuff. Mob Handed has these as well, but their contrasts are more sharply felt by the audience. Sultry pop rock played over a predator chasing a girl. A camp as all hell supern**ce (A severely repressed Daily Mail reader's interpretation of Freddy Kruger) blowing Jason Marriner before killing him (off screen, thank Christ). An overwrought, but mother of god is it sincere, kangaroo court scene followed by a Freddy style 'gotcha' ending. If you had told an uninformed me that Mob Handed was made six months (not six years!) after Killer B*tch, i would have believed you then and there. However, if you told me the writer was on heroin, I would had also believed that. I guess it's down to personal sensibilities rather than any fault of the film. I mean, Killer B*tch was not without it's rape or casual sadism, but i was under the impression for the long while that i was viewing the work of a mad genius. Back down to earth, i realise that i was just watching a serious and skilled, despite unproven, filmmaker slumming it, despite evidently enjoying himself. Mob Handed seems to be more his speed and I find it to be both commendable and car crash in equal respect. Galvin tackles a sensitive subject matter insensitively and the result is yet another car wreck. But the best thing i can say about Mob Handed is that it is uniform to Killer B*tch and proves Liam Galvin is a bonafide force of nature and that his previous feature was not a fluke born out of insane circumstances. I reckon that even if this was a more conventional female rape revenge narrative, i'd warm up to it more. I guess it speaks volumes of my character that it's only when children get involved do i find things get too much. Removed from my better judgement, i recommend Mob Handed as a true blue example of WTF cinema. It's a sorry, angry little film that is still worth ten of it's kind for the sheer disturbing passion involved in the production.