It’s always nice to see forgotten relics of British cinema making a return. There’s something so raw about pre-millennium British films, especially those about adolescence, that is both refreshing and often quite startling to watch. Often, they’re also laden with milestones – the first appearance of a future national treasure, for instance. In the case of Boston Kickout, it’s not just the big-screen debut of John Simm and Andrew Lincoln, but an interesting exploration of British upbringing in its own right.
Set in the early 1990s, after the explosion of youth culture but before the Britpop boom, Boston Kickout follows Phil (Simm), an unemployed teenager who’s just left school. His friend group is littered with similarly eclectic figures, from the punk-influenced and violent Robert (a career-best Marc Warren) to the measured, contemplative Ted (a subdued Lincoln). What unfolds is a look at the mundanity of their lives, navigating exam results, violence, crime, unemployment, and of course, girls.
If it sounds like an Inbetweeners-style teen comedy, Boston Kickout isn’t quite that. Director and co-writer Paul Hills is a lot more frank about the anger and frustration that directionless young men often feel, an issue that has been explored more in recent years by the likes of Adolescence. This is definitely a precursor to those ideas, especially with the character of Robert. He flies off the handle on a whim, has a very fragile ego, and doesn’t think before he acts – and importantly, the film makes no secret in lamenting this attitude.

In this sense, Boston Kickout feels like the midpoint between The Inbetweeners and This is England, blending youthful camaraderie with themes of grief, nihilism, and sexual frustration. Even the main character, John Simm’s Phil, isn’t immune from the lack of direction so familiar in young boys: he flits between university options, chases a completely unattainable romantic partner, and handles rejection with vitriol and anger. Simm himself is great and carries the film confidently, his character’s naivety a complete contrast to the control he has over the role.
While the first half focuses mostly on the friend group and their aimless lives, Boston Kickout takes a fairly dramatic turn towards the hour mark as Phil’s Irish cousin Shona (Emer McCourt) shows up unannounced. It adds a new dynamic to proceedings that is strangely uneasy, and even if their bond isn’t terribly compelling for reasons that very quickly become clear, it’s another entry point to seeing how warped the teenage mind can be.

It’s around this point that Boston Kickout‘s boyish veneer fades away in favour of something much more melancholy, hopeless, and raw. Even the characters we previously perceived as moralistic turn out to have a darker side, and it’s this frank exploration of the warts of growing up in 90s Britain that are really appealing.
The film has plenty of edge, but often not quite enough narrative to do it justice. Ideas come and go, characters bounce in and out of the action, and some late-stage subplots feel at odds with the more grounded tone. It just never feels like Boston Kickout has a focal point, an idea really wants to get across. Instead, it throws plenty of scenarios at the wall, and while they may each be interesting in isolation, none of them ever get the breathing room to gel properly.
Despite this, Boston Kickout earns its place as an important part of British film history – and not just because of the homegrown stars who made their debut here. It uncovers a part of adolescence that was much less publicised in the 90s – and while not all of its ideas land, there’s enough grit to its storytelling to make it worth seeing.
★★★
Boston Kickout releases on 4K and Blu-ray in a limited edition box set on 24 November 2025, and a DVD standard edition releases on the same date. It is available now on digital storefronts.
