Boring, long, and too preachy.

It's fun, it's light, [but] it has a hard time when its tries to get heavy.

Great example of an old-fashioned, pure-at-heart escapist event movie that doesn't pretend to be anything that it's not and has boat loads of fun being its own ludicrous self.

The joyful confection is coated in a sparkly gloss, bright enough to gleam from the darkest, most cynical corners.

Penny Woolcock directs "On The Streets", a powerful, compassionate, humane documentary which delves into the lives of Britain's homeless. Over the course of eight months she shares their world, watching as they eat, sleep and socialise, and attempts to pinpoint the roots and causes of their predicament. The film nosedives into the importance and failures of local authorities, touches upon the staggering number of war veterans "discarded" by the armed forces, and touches upon the messy past lives (spousal abuse, drugs, alcohol, unemployment, shrinking job markets, lack of support networks, rising housing prices etc) which lead to men, women and children living out on the streets. As of April 2011, it is estimated that over ten thousand children alone live on the streets of Britain. Over a hundred thousand families are now homeless according to government figures.Ironically, despite the efforts of different charities to move people into homes, the streets are often where the homeless feel most safe. Woolcock captures the sense of camaraderie and kinship sleeping rough brings, and the way a sense of shame and alienation actually prevents many from seeking help. Connections between homelessness and vice/sex trades are brought up, before Woolcock delves into the life of one character, who feels so dead and marginalised that she looks forward to being raped. "I can't wait to next be raped," the woman says, her face deadpan, "it's the only time I feel something." Oddly, she links her need to be "raped" with the need to "please someone"; a warped sense of, or need for, societal contribution.The film touches upon a number of interesting but now widely known facts – most of the homeless have been looked after by local authorities (young offender's institutes, mental health clinics, adoption agencies etc) while they were kids, most come from disordered family backgrounds and those rough sleepers who do not have a drink, drugs or mental health problem may find that the conditions on the streets create one. Beyond this, the film captures how capitalism breeds an atmosphere in which the homeless can survive, but rarely recover from economic loss. They are society's "acceptable loss".Still, the film is not didactic, preachy or moralising, and instead adopts a naturalistic, unobtrusive tone. Woolcock, a gentle soul always off-screen, is adept at getting her subjects to open up and reveal themselves, and her camera is at times poetic in the way it teases out nuances from famous London landmarks and locales. London, a cement-grey, ugly city which artists struggle to flatteringly photograph, has been banalized by countless television and news programs. Woolcock, however, sporadically finds the romance, texture, and humanity within London's concrete and limestone (as well as stumbling across unintentionally ironic juxtapositions between London's BFI, art and finance sectors, and homeless passer-bys or abandoned, recession hit storefronts). She shoots the "real" wounded soul of London, and the timbre she captures is at times evocative of early neorealism or expressionist big city noirs. End result: Frederick Wiseman with a woman's touch.9/10 – Worth one viewing.