A Serb and Croat scuffle on a London bus. Britain's gritty melting pot is in need of a pilot light; writer/director and Bosnian expatriate Jazmin Dizdar strikes that match from behind a camera.

A young punker follows in the footsteps of hardened junkies, while his caricature Archie & Edith parents remain out of touch. A physician recently separated from his wife attempts to hold onto his kids and his sanity, while a young couple contemplate aborting a child conceived in rape. The black sheep of British elite falls for an illegal refuge. An ambitious reporter flies to Bosnia determined to make sure Brits "give a shat about what's going on out there."

Chunky story lines in this gravy begin to mix as the filmmakers increase the heat and stir. The overworked doctor stops at the reporter's wife's home. Her aristocratic artistry is an excellent contrast to his crushing responsibilities. The Serb and Croat end up in adjacent hospital beds continuing their spats like two kindergartners while the nurse on duty appropriately scolds their inappropriate behavior. The most intriguing blend, an intoxicated punkster crawls onto a convenient crate at the airport for a snooze. Which just happens to land him smack in the middle of a Bosnian war zone. Dazed and confused, he awakens pulling a disposable razor from the supply pack upon which he'd just parachuted to the ground. His is the most endearing experience. Thick in the heartwarming department, but not an easy ride by any means. A fine story line with a flavor that anchors the film.

Plot lines are patchworked nicely through the climax as in "Magnolia," but run a pinch long and just a little hokey afterward. Save for a theatric political assistant, all performances work well. A piano score brightly spices the mainstay creating a filling entrée. And in addition to its other perspective-gaining merits, the film offers Americans an empathetic glimpse of the country we revolted against all those years ago.