Bright Young Things

Stephen Fry steps behind the camera for his directorial debut, an adaptation of Evelyn Waugh's "Vile Bodies".

Stephen Campbell Moore plays Adam Symes, a writer-cum-journalist for a London gossip rag, engaged to Nina. The two intend to marry when they can, but unpleasant customs officers, drunk military personnel, the re-emergence of an old school friend and a generally dire financial situation seem to constantly get in the way. This is London between the wars: it is a time for wild parties and intense love affairs, for drugs, ambiguous sexuality and outrageous costumes, all washed down with bottle after bottle of champagne. The camera swoops and whirls around plush interiors in a manner not seen since Brian De Palma's extraordinary opening to 'Snake Eyes', as young twenty-somethings (and up) dance to hot jazz and try and avoid the tabloid scandals.

Armed with his two leads and assisted by an eccentrically English bunch of hedonist sidekicks, Fry sets about deconstructing Waugh's tale of 1930s excess and boredom. He is assisted by a cameo guest list a mile long. Not since Gosford Park have so many established names been brought together under one roof: Nigel Planer, Stockard Channing, Simon Callow, Richard E. Grant, a barely recognisable Julia McKenzie, the wonderful John Mills and even Peter O'Toole in a hilarious turn as Nina's slightly unhinged father. Fry also pops up in one of those blink-and-you'll-miss-it roles, but the dry and witty pace is not flagged by the presence of so many guest stars - unlike, say, Gormenghast, which seemed to embrace the guest celebrity for its own sake, Bright Young Things is more concerned with getting on with the story.

It's by no means perfect. The dialogue, clever though it is, becomes a little too smug on occasion. Certain characters are underdeveloped while others could, you feel, do with a little more backstory. The film zips along at a fair pace and says all it needs to in less than two hours, but the ending feels slightly tacked on: there is a sense of incongruity in the final reel that jars slightly with the rest of the picture, despite its inevitability.

Let's face it: if snappy Merchant Ivory period costume dramas aren't your thing then you really won't find much here to amuse. But there is enough depth therein to please both those who have read the book and those who, like me, have not. It's a slightly ridiculous story with a deeply serious core, just like its characters - who tread a fine line between simple recklessness and oblivion. For the most part Fry manages to keep the two perfectly balanced, making Bright Young Things one of the most promising British films of the year. And the angel's choir sequence alone is enough to justify the entry fee.

(Monday, 6th October 2003)