The golden glow of a London summer forms the deceptive backdrop to Last Swim, the blistering debut feature from director Sasha Nathwani that exposes how the capital has quietly withdrawn its welcome mat for young adults.
As the film opens in cinemas this week, its British-Iranian star Deba Hekmat delivers a performance so raw it threatens to crack the screen - precisely because so much of Ziba's story rings terrifyingly true.
Nathwani's camera lingers on the painful ironies of modern London: teens splashing in the Hampstead Heath ponds while worrying about tuition fees, a stolen kiss outside a £3 million Camden Town terrace, the hollow victory of A-level results when rent consumes two-thirds of a barista's wages.
"The film's central question became: what does freedom mean when you're priced out of your own city?" Nathwani explains during an interview at a Soho members' club - the kind of space his characters could never access.
"My cast kept telling me their real stories - skipping meals to afford tube fare, watching childhood pubs become estate agent offices. That rage fuels every scene."
From Lockdown to Locked Out
Though set during a heatwave, Last Swim was conceived in the freezer-burn chill of lockdown.
Nathwani and co-writer Helen Simmons drafted the script while watching teenagers through their windows - clusters of kids desperately trying to manufacture normalcy in parks and car parks.
"You could see this generation being robbed of their coming-of-age moments," says Simmons. "Then we realised - even after restrictions lifted, the obstacles just changed form.
“Instead of pandemic rules, it became unaffordable transport, extinct youth clubs, the death of the cheap night out."
Lead actress Hekmat channeled her Kurdish family's struggles into Ziba's journey. "My brothers missed their GCSE years to Covid," she reveals.
"Now they compete for jobs against kids whose parents bought them tutors. That unfairness - it's in every glance Ziba gives across the dinner table."
The statistics confirm what the screenplay dramatises:
Shooting on the Edge
The production itself became a metaphor for its themes. When budget constraints forced them to abandon locations ("A Primrose Hill resident actually called security on us," Nathwani laughs.
The crew developed guerrilla tactics - shooting key scenes at dawn before officials arrived, using friends' flats when council permits fell through.
This improvisation bled into performances. A devastating breakup scene outside Kentish Town Station emerged when actors Michael Ajao and Hekmat began reworking dialogue about gentrification mid-take.
"The anger wasn't scripted," Ajao admits. "That's our actual frustration leaking through."
The Cultural Emergency
As the film arrives in cinemas, its warnings extend beyond storytelling:
"This isn't nostalgia," Nathwani insists as we walk past the now-shuttered Borderline venue where he saw his first gig. "It's a red alert.
When creative kids can't afford to stay, the city loses its oxygen. Next time you wonder why British music feels stale, or why our films lack edge - look at what we've done to these kids."
Last Swim ultimately delivers its hardest blow in the final frames: Ziba boarding a train out of London, her dreams literally moving elsewhere. As the credits roll, one can't help but wonder - when the next generation of British filmmakers make their debut features, how many will be shooting them in Manchester or Birmingham instead?
Last Swim is in UK cinemas now, with special £5 tickets for under-25s at participating venues. Director Q&As will run at Curzon Soho and Genesis Cinema through April.
