Sometimes a cheeky little indie film strolls up, favours you with one of those complicated ‘street’ handshakes and changes your life for the better with its endearingly lo-fi quirks and unexpectedly powerful story. Powder, alas, is not such a film. More likely to glare at you from inside a fashionably scruffy greatcoat than offer you a rollie and a cheerful anecdote, it is the very worst sort of self-absorbed garbage.