Золотая молодежь (2003) Online

This is one of the best films I have seen in a while. I was lucky to be able to catch it at Washington, DC's International Film Fest, but I hope that it gets a proper U.S. release date soon.

The stunning costumes, set, and dialogue -- all very era-appropriate -- were compelling. I don't usually go for period pieces, but so much of this movie seemed tongue-and-cheek that I couldn't help enjoying it. The main characters were well-developed, each with their own quirks, and there were some unexpected twists that helped move the plot along.

Stephen Campbell Moore, the actor who plays the lead (Adam Symes), is a real find. He carries the movie beautifully, and I wouldn't be surprised if he became a huge star. Even though Moore does fine on his own, you have to give credit to Simon Callow (King of Anatolia), Jim Broadbent (the drunk Major), and others in the supporting cast for mastering their oddball roles. Furthermore, the costume designer deserves an Oscar.

I was a bit disappointed with the ending, or at least the scenes leading up to the end. The film starts out like a carnival ride and runs out of gas near the end. But, like all good carnival rides, once you finish, you want to get back on. That's the way I felt about "Bright Young Things." I can't wait to see it in the theater again.

"Bright Young Things" is a very stylish adaptation of the Evelyn Waugh novel, "Vile Bodies". I felt the film captured the snarky satire tone of the novel and was a fairly decent effort on the part of Stephen Fry who was making his directorial debut. I found the film played fairly light and enjoyable; a bit like a meringue that way. I suspect that this is a film for those with a fondness for wicked satire, in jokes and an interest in period pieces.

There is a kind of manic pacing to the film and the cinematography which I suppose matches the feeling of the time. People had survived a war, and a pandemic so it might make one a bit dotty.

I was quite pleased by some of the work by some of the young actors who had never been in a film before. They had a pleasant ease infront of the camera.

It isn't going to be some over the top smash. It is one of those nice art house films that one later rents from the library and shares with certain friends who have a taste for colorful clothes and characters.

Stephen Fry is such a prodigious polymath that it's no surprise what a good fist he's made of his directorial debut. That's not to say it's wholly successful; the characters are so shallow that it is hard to warm to them, although it should be pointed out that this is not necessarily a fault. Indeed, it's refreshing these days to find a film in which characters are not trying to ingratiate themselves. Emily Mortimer is exempt from this observation in any case, as she's just so adorable - and is it just me or does she look a dead spit for the young Mary Steenburgen?

I found not only the camerawork but the lighting extremely gaudy, sometimes offputtingly so. However, Fry is admirably adventurous in some of his camera sweeps, not playing it safe as some inexperienced directors do.

As to the performances, it is true that Simon Callow hams it up quite outrageously (although he still wrung a couple of chuckles out of me), and I found Michael Sheen's uber-camp queen rather wearing, until his scene at the end which I thought he handled well. I know I'm not the first person to say this, but it bears repetition: Fenella Woolgar is a revelation in this film, conveying the insouciance of the upper class effortlessly (and the scene after the "orgy" with the stern family is priceless). James McEvoy was excellent too.

Oh, and by the way, to whomever described Evelyn Waugh as "herself one of the beauties of the age" - you may have been joking, but in case not, Evelyn Waugh was in fact a curmudgeonly man who would no doubt have snorted to hear himself thus described!

What a fantastic movie, delightfully charming, unrelentingly affable and irresistibly likable. Brilliant acting, excellent realisation and direction; this movie was a joy to watch. A bittersweet love story interwoven with a hilarious array of eccentric English upper class characters from the early 20th century.

Watch out for many faces in small but unforgettable parts, I especially adored Dan Aykroyd's, Michael Sheen's and Jim Broadbent's characters. Fenella Woolgar was also perfect and immensely likable in her role as the dazed and confused but eternally cheerful and optimistic eccentric. Emily Mortimer was flawless as the English rose stuck between marrying money or sticking with her penniless true love. There was palpable chemistry between her and Stephen Campbell Moore's character, which made the whole story work for me.

And of course Peter O'Toole steals the film with barely five minutes of total screen time, but that's the kind of talent he was gifted with. Watch it if you enjoy witty dialogue, period pieces and don't you dare miss it if you're a Stephen Fry fan. He is a very funny man and his direction which remains always affectionate towards the characters he's portraying in his movie, was impressive given he's better known as an actor and writer.

If you liked this movie, you would also like:

• Enchanted April - A Month By The Lake - Widows Peak - In The Bleak Midwinter - A Room With A View

All of these are in my list of top ten favourite films of all time. Bright Young Things just misses the mark to join them, but it's definitely in my top twenty.

"Bright Young Things" is a mostly effective satire, with some jarring seriousness thrown in, of "Masterpiece Theater" Jazz Age costume dramas for its first seven-eighths.

Set in the same period as "Gosford Park," its conflicts are just within the sexual and financial eccentricities of the empty-headed leisure and wannabe leisure class, where titles don't match income or outflow.

It is more of a visual evocation of Noel Coward songs and incorporates some of his numbers, as well as original sound-alike songs. The frolics have some similarities to the simultaneous Weimar Republic portrayed in "Cabaret."

Stephen Campbell Moore as the protagonist is almost too good in his film debut, as his character's captivatingly serious eyes and demeanor conflict with his insouciant company, particularly Emily Mortimer as his dispassionate lover, though that justifies the stuck-on denouement, that even without having read the Evelyn Waugh book this is adapted from, "Vile Bodies," I can tell didn't have this too neat and comeuppance tying-up.

The most pointed parts of the movie are its acid documentation of the birth of the tabloid gossip press, including Dan Ackroyd as a Canadian press baron with a more than passing resemblance to today's lords of Fleet Street. James McAvoy is very good as a more upper-class betraying precursor to his scandal-seeking scion reporter in the mini-series "State of Play," and manages to seem like a real person, unlike so many of the characters who are just types or plot conveniences.

The production design and costumes are delightful.

Actor Stephen Fry makes an impressive splash as a director with Bright Young Things, based on the Evelyn Waugh novel, Vile Bodies. The story centers on some struggling "bright young things" during the years before England entered World War II. Adam (Stephen Campbell Moore) and Nina (Emily Mortimer) play sometime-engaged young things at the center of a disparate group of eccentrics. They seem addicted to the London "social whirl" as well as cocaine. He's a struggling writer, and she needs a rich husband. He gets roped into taking a job as a gossip columnist because the former writer (James McAvoy) commits suicide and because his manuscript is confiscated when he enters Scotland. So the young things go to every party and write up tons of scandalous gossip for the rag, keep getting drunk and stoned, and keep pursuing money. Typical acid commentary from Waugh, and Fry does a good job balancing all the characters and sub-plots. Impressive cast as well with Peter O'Toole (very funny), Dan Aykroyd, Stockard Channing (hilariously named Mrs. Melrose Ape), Harriet Walter, Imelda Staunton, Simon Callow, Jim Broadbent, Julia McKemzie, John Mills, Jim Carter, Angela Thorne, Bill Paterson, Richard E. Grant, and Margaret Tyzack recognizable. Fry appears as a chauffeur.

Moore and Mortimer are solid as young things, but Fenella Woolgar as Agatha is the standout. She's awesome in the part of the drugged out socialite who ends up in an asylum. Woolgar has several memorable scenes and droops about being "smashingly bored." Her race car scene is a scream. David Tennant is the repulsive Ginger, Michael Sheen is the queeny Miles, Lisa Dillon is the social wannabe, and Alec Newman is the very odd race driver.

Only real complaint is that the ending is VERY long and drawn out. And even though a few loose ends are tied up, it seems padded and interminable. We didn't really need to see WW II battle scenes, and even if the ending worked in the novel it seems very phony in the film.

The film Bright Young Things, adapted from Evelyne Waugh's acclaimed fable; Vile Bodies is manic in its pace. As such it is reminiscent of His Girl Friday (1940) with its legendary speed of comedy delivery. The difference with His Girl Friday the speed of the comedy delivery is applied to loquaciousness with a bit of slap stick. Director Stephen Fry of Bright Young Things on the other hand utilises speed to articulate the decadence of the period. As such he is affective in his endeavour of making his point of a decadent aristocracy.

The depressing aspect of the film is that the aristocracy are portrayed as decadent party animals, unlike the poor who in their pursuit of escaping their worries are (in today's post modern Britain) often labelled as 'feckless' by the tabloid press. But as the impoverished poor struggled to feed themselves across Europe during the inter-war period, the aristocracy idly carried on without social conscience or obligation to responsibility. Such decadence at the expense of the poor contributed towards the rise of extreme politics in Europe during the 1920s.

Contributing to the masses' public perception of the idle rich decadence of the inter-war period was the tabloid press. The press baron in the film is shown as suppressing the realities of the issues affecting the ordinary people of Britain for profit, and thereby concealing truth.

While Fry adeptly captures the decadence of the 20s in Bright Young Things, Peter O'Toole steels the film with his outstanding satirising of the stereotypical English eccentric. As the eccentric of the upper classes O'Toole's character Colnol Blout is the epitome of English two faced diplomacy of the ruling classes. The example being when he writes a cheque out for £1000 to help his prospective son-in-law to marry his daughter, when he signs it in the name of Charlie Chaplin. A typical English snub no less!

Excellent film, well acted and brilliantly directed.

"Bright Young Things" is a comedy that's never funny, a period piece that doesn't know what period it's in, and a party film that leaves you with the hangover.

When writer-director Stephen Fry decided to make an adaptation of an Evelyn Waugh novel, he could have done himself a favor and not adapted "Vile Bodies." It's an episodic satire on the lives of a group of London club kids in the late 1920s that attempts to elicit laughter from the nasty ways they are run to ground by the world around them. The characters aren't meant for any deeper emotional investment than lab rats, though Fry seems to believe otherwise.

At the center of the story, in both novel and film, is young Adam (Stephen Campbell Moore), who at the start of our story has lost his prized manuscript and is desperately trying to find new sources of funding with which to marry his lover Nina (Emily Mortimer). Opportunity comes in the form of an offer from publisher Lord Monomark (Dan Aykroyd) who wants Adam's help "tearing the lid off the young, idle, and rich."

"I put Seignior Mussolini on the front page, no one buys a copy," he laments. "But a picture of one of your set in a nightclub, I can't print enough copies."

The problem with both the novel and the film is this interesting idea is dropped almost before it begins, in favor of a number of other outrageous episodes which seem to act on the principle that anything can be made merry provided it moves fast enough. Like a strange major who makes off with some money Adam wanted to bet on a long-shot horse. Or a party that winds up finding themselves in the Prime Minister's residence. Or a car race that loses a wayward driver. All of this is drawn out as if it were funny merely by being incongruous.

The film is worse on a few counts. First, Fry by necessity condenses the story but is at pains to include almost every character that appears in the book, as a way of facilitating assorted cameos that run from extraneous (Richard E. Grant as an angry Jesuit) to sad (John Mills as a mute coke sniffer). Second, he invests his version with an elegiac sadness that feels totally out of place in the second half. Nothing says comedy like a man sticking his head in an oven, or another tearfully discovering his homosexual lifestyle exposed.

Even the main romance, a matter of crass opportunism in the book, is presented as a kind of real love story, even heroic as the Roaring '20s zip suddenly ahead to Dunkirk and the Blitz. Fry doesn't seem to trust either Waugh's wit or his own to make "Bright Young Things" work on comedic grounds, or else he really thinks the characters worth celebrating. The result is a doubled-down waste of our time.

Having seen this film at the cinema and thoroughly enjoyed it I purchased it on DVD and then read the book so as to better judge whether the comments that the film was an exceedingly loose adaptation were true. It is certainly true that Fry hasn't stuck to the narrative strictly but the changes he made in the name of good cinema were overwhelmingly the right ones and he actually managed to bring forward some entertaining background characters and relegate some fairly tedious ones. For example Lord Monomark who is a Canadian Newspaper magnate shamelessly based on Lord Beverbrook is rairly mentioned in the book but is superbly played by Dan Ackroyd in the film whilst the PM Walter Outrage who features heavily in Waughs novel is barely mentioned in the film and rightly so as the character in the novel is a complicated amalgamation of contemporary politics (i.e Ramsay Mcdonald and Bonar Law)that even I having studied the period extensively found heavy going. Also whilst the ending is contrived to be too happy it is a marginal improvement on the novel in my opinion which doesn't seem to conclude the book very well. Overall a superb film with excellent production values and peerless period feel for which Stephen Fry should be commended. I just hope that he has a stab at at adapting Decline and Fall which is another excellent Waugh novel.

A most notable characteristic of this film is that it rather zanily merges the 1920's with the 1930's. That historical distortion may seem a slight defect to some viewers choosing to concentrate on a broader stage involving the upper class in its last throes of excess, but for me it destroys the underlying plot. The years before the Great Depression -- the Roaring 20's -- were sui generis. Moving everything forward to events as late as 1940 is a forced element that simply fails.

Otherwise, there are some bright young moments here. Character actors do indeed steal the show, even if some are given throw-away roles. If only there were better and more believable development of various interactions between the leads, it would make for compelling drama; but we are treated instead to campy olio resolving itself into a strange conclusion, somewhat surreal. For example, the business between Adam and Ginger having to do with money as WWII rages on is misplaced farce -- even if the audience assumes a generous disposition of credulity.

Little wonder outsiders looking in have a difficult time with this film, not to mention us history buffs.

As one of the best assets humanity can boast to count among itself, Stephen Fry has delighted the world across a vast array of media, firmly establishing himself as one of my very favourite entertainers. How then, you ask, could it have taken me so unforgivably long to sample his Bright Young Things?

Having just penned the novel from which the film takes its name, Adam Symes is crestfallen to have it taken from him by customs as contraband literature. He returns to his life of yuppie indulgence (if indeed the film's '30s/'40s setting will permit the usage of that term) where he is variously delighted and disappointed by the tide-like fortunes of his financial situation, and the uncertainty concerning his ability to wed his beloved Nina.

Beginning with an expository reporter attempting to gain access to a lascivious and drug fuelled party, Bright Young Things launches us into the wild party lifestyle of its central cast of characters. The cocaine and absinthe combinations proclaimed by Nina as boring impress upon us the extent of the inter-war indulgence of the London youth. Things are somewhat slow to start, though the positively delightful and flowery banter of Fry's script keeps us both amused and entranced by the language of the era. Humour comes spouting from the supporting cast: the likes of Fenella Woolgar and Michael Sheen lend more laughs than the main acts themselves, who are generally left to present the dramatic front of the movie. Without doubt the film's best factor is the scene in which the hopeful Symes visits his father-in-law-to-be, a crackpot lunatic played splendidly by Peter O' Toole. As the running time finds itself elapsed, the drama begins to more firmly announce its presence to us, the stakes yet again raised and the outcome looking ever more bleak. The problem is that this never reaches a sufficient and acceptable zenith. No point of conclusion is reached wherein the characters seem to transform beyond the horrid snobs they began life before our eyes as, a shame given the potential this may have had. Not, that is to say, that the characters are unlikeable. In spite of their vices they grow upon us and become endeared to us, though we look on like disappointed parents, hopefully awaiting the time when they will learn the folly of their ways and grow up, a time the film never presents, or at least not expressly enough. I understand the novel on which the film is based takes this more desired route, the film's distance from this perhaps the product of Fry's wishes to carve his own story. In any case, despite the slight disappointment of the lack of redemption, the film is consistent in its humorous and dramatic elements, which blend together to give a decent slice of entertainment.

Almost certainly less good than it could and should have been, Bright Young Things feels like it fell at the last hurdle. That said, it was never at the front of the race. A perfectly competent debut from Mr Fry, one cannot disagree that the film holds its own.

Stephen Fry's directorial debut is a second-rate attempt at updating Evelyn Waugh's novel. To make the film more 'accessible' Fry pretends to be Baz Luhrmann - and fails. Bright Young Things has possibly the noisiest and most unrelenting soundtrack of the year, with so much cutting between shots that I began to feel that I had whiplash. This is an exercise style over content, but the style really isn't much to write home about.

Bright Young Things is one of those wretched literary adaptations where the writer/director is desperate to say "oh, it might be a period piece, but how little things have changed". And Fry takes every opportunity to underline this point. Over and over and over again. Watching Sir John Mills's character snorting coke (actually it wasn't really a character, more of a cypher or stereotype like virtually all the other roles here) was one of the more embarrassing screen moments of 2003.

The film has no sense of narrative drive or pace. It's difficult to either follow or care. Unfortunately newcomer Stephen Campbell Moore who is as close as the film gets to a main protagonist is a dull, uncharismatic actor. Michael Sheen overacts and looks embarrassed in a ridiculous role. However there are star turns from Fenella Woolgar and James McAvoy who manage to rivet even when everything else is flailing around them.

Fatally, the film has absolutely no sense of period whatsoever and seems littered with borrowings from across the 20th century. Waugh's novel was about the Jazz Age of the 1920s. Fry's world is a kind of incorrectly jazzy 30s, with added 21st century haircuts. The final scenes set during the Second World War seem lame and are, of course, simply wrong - the novel was written in 1930.

The film is ill-conceived and poorly executed. I had always assumed that Stephen Fry would be the right man to adapt Waugh, but here he proves that he doesn't have the least idea what makes good cinema, let alone a convincing adaptation.

I began to fear that this film would be a travesty of Waugh's superb novel when I saw Stephen Fry doing promotional interviews for it in which he claimed that the reason Waugh's title had been changed was because Waugh had actually wanted to call the book "Bright Young Things" but had been dissuaded by his publisher. Balderdash, of course. Obviously, some ill-read fellow in the film business had expressed the view that the title "Vile Bodies" suggested a horror film - perhaps about a depraved coroner? - rather than a sharp satirical comedy. Still, this annoyingly foolish pretence didn't quite prepare me to expect a film quite as awful as this one actually is. Fry seems to have no understanding of Waugh's novel at all, and even transposes it from the 1920s - the actual era of the "bright young things" - to the 1930s, when the absurdities of the rich, in an era of worldwide economic depression, were considerably less tolerated. The entirely fictitious and unspecified war which breaks out at the end of the book becomes World War II - even though Waugh's novel predates that conflict by nine years! Could it be that Fry didn't actually know this? The relentless cheapening of Waugh's fine satire is made worse by the employment of a large number of the best actors in Britain (not to mention Dan Aykroyd and Stockard Channing from America), most of whom are wasted - none more so than John Mills, in his last movie - and many of whom are encouraged by tyro director Fry to over-act irritatingly. Only Fenella Woolgar and David Tennant seem to have actually read the novel, or anything else by Waugh. The novel is, after more than eighty years, still as sharp as a razor; this film seems as shallow, empty and stupid as its characters.

I was one of the voices of the angels in this film. It is interesting and light hearted. I must say that it presents an interesting view on high society in England that I would guess rings true even now after having lived in the country for multiple years. The characters are considerably well developed and one does feel a connection to at least one character as they view the film. The story is an entertaining one to those of us that are interested in life throughout the nineteen twenties and thirties. It gives a very intimate view of life changes in the younger crowd of that era in the twentieth century. Good to watch, oh, and if you ever meet Mr. Fry...he is an interesting character...

Bright Young Things (2003), directed by Stephen Fry, demonstrates that an extraordinary actor may fail as director and scriptwriter.

Stephen Fry is one of my favorite actors. However, he fails so miserably in his directorial debut that we left after the first 15 minutes of the film.

The movie's opening sequence is meant to demonstrate the wild, madcap exuberance of rich young adults in the 1930's. The wildness is forced and the exuberance is glaringly unrealistic. You can almost hear Fry saying, "All right people, back to work. Dance wildly, laugh loudly, be carefree."

Two more scenes--at an English customs office, and in the office of a newspaper tycoon--are so amateurishly

directed that we couldn't believe we were sitting in a

theater watching a commercial movie.. We also couldn't

believe that Stephen Fry, one of our favorite actors-- couldn't see the disaster unfolding, and somehow, in some way, figure out how to save the film.

After about 15 minutes I whispered, "Are you seeing what I'm

seeing?" Within 30 seconds we were on our way out the door.

We haven't walked out of a movie in years. Both of us believe that, out of respect for the director and the actors, we should

stay to the end of a movie . Also, of course, a movie that

begins weakly may come to life after a while.

So, if Bright Young Things became a witty, sophisticated, successful film after the first 15 minutes, we shouldn't have left. Somehow, I just don't think that's what happened.

Having read a part in Evelyn Waugh's "The Loved One" in college it's nice to recognize the sharp bite of the curmudgeonly Waugh wit in this latter-day film adaptation of his "Vile Bodies." This romp through the partying smart set of 1930s Britain's from the viewpoint of a budding young writer co-opted by a broadly drawn caricature of Lord Beaverbrook (played by Dan Aykroyd, type-cast for once as a loud Canadian) into the world of sensational yellow gossip journalism is wonderful.

The more obtund contemporary film adaptations of Waugh made in murky black and white converge on this almost Platonic ideal of a movie based on a Waugh story. The cinematography's splendid, the performances crisp and the pace taut. Emily Mortimer is properly reptilian as the desirable, shallow and fickle love-object Nina Blount, Stephen Campbell Moore earnest and sympathetic as striving and ineptly conniving Adam Fenwick-Symes, the cast in general bring Waugh's vision of the wicked, vapid high society scene of the 1930s to life adroitly.

Dan Aykroyd revels in the Beaverbrook-based character whaling away at the levers of power, David Tennant (the current incarnation of Doctor Who at this writing) is great as the obtuse but wealthy "Ginger", Peter O'Toole does a nice cameo as Nina's father, and the peripatetic Jim Broadbent puts in yeoman service.

Stockard Channing excels as a sociopathic rich American (every Waugh story has at least one). Her character, "Mrs. Melrose Ape," is an Aimee Semple MacPherson-type idiotic fundamentalist hypocrite touring wicked, pre-war Europe with a troupe of holy young girl singers, putting the Word of God to hokey rhyme. The words of the song "Ain't No Flies on the Lamb of God" may have been written by director Stephen Fry, but they are wicked satire in the Waughian spirit.

The vignettes of party life play nasty, amusing havoc with the social elite of pre-war Britain - well-placed clergymen sniff diffidently at cocaine and drink authoritatively, while His Majesty's statesmen are set adrift after their wives and daughters work their ruin in completely unnecessary scandals created at lascivious parties.

Tales of what goes on when the high and the mighty party hard gives the simmering anger of British veterans and working people a palpable focus and outlet - news of those vile bodies sporting about on unearned money and in the arms of powerful sinners is central to the plot; the main character is just one of three people who work their own ruin while writing about the dissolution of others for publisher Dan Aykroyd's newspaper empire.

Some folks here in IMDb remark about the characters not being as sympathetic as they had hoped. This betrays a lack of experience with the writing of Evelyn Waugh, who wrote caricatures, not characters.

Waugh's savage wit spares few of the people who populate his stories; Waugh is the anti-romantic Jack the Ripper, the Siva the Destroyer of British high society's pretensions, down to the scene in which Adam Fenwick-Symes and "Ginger" dicker over how much Nina Blount's affection is worth in pounds, shillings and pence (after all, Symes's inn bill had to be paid).

Waugh based one of his most hateful villains ("The Man Who Liked Dickens") on his own father - a very recognizable portrait of a venal and worthless old bastard that stunned those who knew Waugh (perhaps it stunned those who knew Waugh well less than it did the others... ).

This is perhaps the least acerbic of Waugh's stories. Stephen Fry works magic in bringing it to vibrant, entertaining life. It's Waugh for those who can't cope with Waugh's usual demolition of every character in his stories. If you've never seen a movie based on a Waugh story before, maybe this is a good start to his work.

Watching Stephen Fry making his directorial debut is a little bit like watching a toddler the first time he rides a bike without stabilisers. Things are dangerously wobbly to begin with then smooth out nicely as self-belief grows before everything comes crashing down due to over-confidence.

Based on Evelyn Waugh's 'Vile Bodies', this film chronicles the debauched lifestyle of a group of paradoxically penniless rich kids (i.e. they're mostly lords and ladies but have no visible means of income) in a Britain of the 30s that would be unrecognisable to all but the impoverished aristocracy. This is a rarefied world that no doubt existed and seemed real to the likes of Waugh but which is unrecognisable to the majority of British people. Without doubt, however, this movie, in its representation of that period and lifestyle, provides us with an absorbing and entertaining tale.

Apart from our hero Adam Fenwick-Symes (Stephen Campbell Moore, another débutant giving a good account of himself) the characters in this film aren't so much introduced as wander in like party guests you drunkenly met in another room ten minutes ago. They all share a propensity for decadence, and the affectation of declaring most everything to be a frantic bore, and are all, without exception, empty shells. We've seen it all before in the likes of Brideshead Revisited and The Sun Also Rises, but Fry manages to keep us hooked despite the clumsy manner in which he films those opening scenes. Perhaps it's because of the sumptuous production design that captures the feel of these bright young things' hedonistic lifestyle, or perhaps it's because of the amiably random manner in which Fry begins to pull the threads of his story together. Either way, despite Fry's apparent determination to use every scene transition known to the film world, and to make use of at least a little snippet from each of a multitude of cameras used to shoot many scenes, the story manages to hold your attention and drag you along with it, leaving you asking yourself why you're interested in a bunch of characters who are all about as deep as lemon peel.

The story and the characters follow a predictable arc, but Fry fills the film with enough detail and ingenuity to at least keep us entertained. A host of famous faces provide a series of cameos that last little more than seconds in some cases – and this is without doubt the only film in which you will see the redoubtable Sir John Mills snorting cocaine. Fenella Woolgar outshines everybody in her scenes as the agreeably dippy cokehead Agatha, who brings a whole new meaning to the term 'powdering one's nose' and eventually parties herself into an insane asylum. In a role that strays into parody every now and then, she manages to provide a brief glimpse of a lost soul behind the party face, and her 'dream' speech pretty much sums up the entire social scene in which the characters are embroiled. James McAvoy, as the ill-fated Lord Balcairn (AKA Mr. Chatterbox) also stands out in one of few sympathetic roles.

The film loses its momentum in the final act, when Fry moves from adapting Waugh's story to altering it completely, and we are left with an ending that is not only contrived but stretches credibility beyond its limits. Having managed to have steered a path that at least avoided conventionality in terms of plot, Fry suddenly makes a complete about-turn and presents us with a finale that stands out as a monumental piece of misjudgement. Perhaps Waugh's ending was too downbeat for the backers. It's a shame if that is the case, because it will mean that Fry most likely compromised himself. Somewhere down the line someone needs to show an ounce of integrity and fight for an ending that is true to the nature of the story, rather than compromising with a soap-opera climax that tarnishes the good work that has gone before.

Bottom line: BRIGHT YOUNG THINGS is a worthy directorial debut from Stephen Fry and, while it's no classic, has a lot going for it. It's probably not worth seeking out, but if it happens to cross your path it's definitely worth watching. Just be sure to stop watching after the war scenes….

Bright Young Things is involving and compelling. As a window to past experiences of excess and hard reality, we see current reflections in the (infamous) USA gay "circuit" parties and the proliferation of mega music festivals, even here in Australia.

Partying like there's no tomorrow is just as relevant now as it was when the world was between Wars, but the lifestyle has a high price, and settling the bill sometimes requires much more than mere financial compromise.

Bright Young Things explores the interaction of the quite different characters who form a trendy young social set. It is big beautiful widescreen entertainment, with fine sound. I love the close-ups - I can't recall ever being made more aware of how beautiful eyes are.

Stephen Fry presents a sharp script performed by a truly wonderful ensemble - and with inspiring direction and incisive editing throughout.

10 out of 10 for doing everything fine cinema should do.

They managed somehow to wring Waugh's uproarious novel completely dry of any humor in the process of adapting this film to screen. A formidable, if not commendable task.

Personally, I think the characters would often have to react to the various plot twists--e.g. when the protagonist (first) learns he will no longer be able to marry his girlfriend (I can't remember their names) and informs her of this--with something like apathy or resignation. I don't think, in the example I gave, Waugh suggests that either of them are significantly devastated by this (as one would normally be), but rather only slightly put out by it for a moment (which is what I find funny about it), whereas, if I remember correctly, in the movie the girl acts genuinely disappointed.

But I could be way off the mark, and I apologise if that's so. To be fair, Waugh's satirical wit strikes me as being particularly difficult to adapt. And I wasn't calling anyone involved in the movie a 'howling cad' -- that's just a reference to the book.

The more things change the more they stay the same. London in the 1930's and the social scene is bustling. Adam is a writer of ambition but when his book gets confiscated by HM Customs he finds himself writing for Lord Monomark's paper as gossip columnist Mr Chatterbox. This involves him going to as many parties as possible and mixing with the rich bright young things of London society. While Adam attempts to get the money together to marry his girlfriend Nina he follows the ups and downs of this group.

I have never read the book from which this came so I only came to this film as one comes to any other film and therefore had no expectations of what it should be or would be. The film follows the fortunes of the 1930's equivalent of the It crowd – those without jobs who seem to live of money from somewhere to just continually party and appear in the papers. As such the narrative relies heavily on the characters and I must confess I didn't find many of them interesting enough to really engage me. That said the plot still works because the characters are lively and flamboyant enough to be interesting and amusing. The multi-talented Fry takes pleasure in showing us how things are no different now than they were then – the public gobbles up tabloid gossip, the society parties are full of outrageous behaviour, sex and drug taking. With a modern eye it is fun to watch this although it perhaps isn't enough to make the whole film.

Fry's debut as director shows him able as such even if some of his touches are a bit clumsy. The cast help him out greatly by delivering the goods from his script. Moore has the "straightest" character and the harder job of holding the narrative together but he does well and makes for an quite engaging character. Mortimer isn't used as well as I would have liked although she herself is pretty good. The rest of the cast are caricatures and outrageous types who perhaps don't add depth to the film but certainly make it fun. Tennant is good although the deliveries of Sheen and Woolgar naturally dominate. Quality is deep within the film even if some of Callow, Channing, Aykroyd, Mills and Grant are barely in it long enough to even be classed as cameos! Broadbent is a delight as a permanently sloshed major.

Overall then an enjoyable film that makes for interesting viewing the way that modern society is reflected in 1930's society. The characters make for an OK story even if a lot of it is on the surface and very much of the moment (which I suppose might have been the point) and it is enjoyable even if it isn't that memorable.

Stephen Fry's film hasn't got a clue where his film is going or who it's for. It's a bit like MTV with period dress. Fry seems to hope that the film's complete lack of substance has been disguised by its fast and furious style. I was kept going my the endless checklist of cameos, but even some of these were too much to take. It should be made law that all of Simon Callow's performances are deposited on the cutting room floor. Paying audiences should not be subjected to his hammy preening.

Situated between the two world wars, tells the story of a rowdy group of Bohemians by nature that consist of poets, musicians or actors or just bored from the upper class echelon, fulfill in their wasted lives by partying, drinking, or other assorted ways to keep themselves entertained in order to search for the meaning of life. "Bright Young Things" depicts the ideology of what went through the minds of young people who grew up in the 1930's that included household names at the time like Ernest Hemingway and Gertrude Stein and Oscar Wilde. These people were well cultured and extraordinary geniuses, but due to their controversial ways, their fate ended in tragic proportions.

Based on the novel "Vile Bodies" by Evelyn Waugh, actor/director Stephen Fry resurrects this rather untouched decade with a no-nonsense, relaxed manner as we explore these posh upper-class socialites we like to call "Bright Young Things". With a fast-paced and refined, the characters portrayed here are spineless and degenerative. With disaster drawing upon them, the London Tabloids are chewing up on their reputation. They even usurp the Royal Family in media attention. These guys don't care about current political events, money to them grows on trees and they lived their lives like it was the last day on Earth for them, which might not be too far away for them. But do you think they care?

Stephen Fry has wowed his fans with his impressive resume of outstanding performances over the years. Even though he's acting here albeit a small role, his directing is another reason to respect this man. The cast that's compiled here are a definitive ensemble of well-known performers juxtaposed with a cast of then newcomers. We have veteran performers like Jim Broadbent, Julia Mackenzie and Peter O'Toole and final goodbye for Lord John Mills. Then there's relative newbies at the time like Emily Mortimer, Stephen Campbell Moore and James McAvoy enlightening us with their professional prowess. And then also we have North American alums to join the cast (Dan Aykroyd and Stockard Channing) show that they can turn in brilliant performances without sounding clichéd. Fry loosely lets them strut their acting chops until some of them fizzle out in their own demise. And though the movie "Chicago" paints the grim depiction of the roaring twenties, "Bright Young Things" goes the extra mile to in all its reckless ways. With incredible settings, accurate costuming and luscious scenery, this movie captivates a prelude time period before WWII.

I highly recommend you to watch this movie. You'll be enlightened, by the superb acting, the authentic costumes and Stephen Fry's masterful direction. It will leave you mesmerized.

This is a wonderful evocation of the lost world of pre-War London Bohemian high society, based on the novel 'Vile Bodies' by Evelyn Waugh. It is of course intended to be a pastiche, and Stephen Fry's ability to stop it every time just as it is about to stray into 'high camp' is a model of directorial restraint, with actors who could easily all have become out of control if given free rein. One of the most spectacular performances in the film is that by Fenella Woolgar, whose portrayal of an elitist aristocratic Bohemian who eventually goes mad is done to utter perfection. Fry was able to do this film and get these amazing performances because he really does know this kind of people, and he and his actor friends (yes, they were all friends, including Sir John Mills who does not speak) were able to fine-tune the performances to absolute perfection. The old saying 'It takes one to know one' can in this case be altered to: 'It takes one to show one.' Fry does not hesitate to show the behavioural excesses, revolting hypocrisy, and sickening aloofness and indifference to reality of the 'bright young things' in this film. It is a morality tale, but thoroughly entertaining and brilliantly realised. A triumph, frankly.

Bright Young Things

The difference between London and New York circa 1920s was British flappers drove drunk on the left side of the road.

Luckily, the young folks in this drama have cocaine to sober them up.

During the twenties, the well-to-do English youth threw elaborate booze and narcotic filled parties.

Involved in the shenanigans are struggling writer Adam (Stephen Campbell) and his soon-to-be wife (Emily Mortimer).

But before they can marry, Adam needs to claim horse-race winnings from an eccentric Major (Jim Broadbent).

To make ends meet, he ghostwrites a gossip column expounding the daily dalliances of his friends (Michael Sheen, Fenella Woolgar), to the pleasure of his editor (Dan Aykroyd)

A well-acted glimpse at England's self-indulgent post-WWI climate, Young Bright Things manages to show the perils of being young and rich as much as the pearls.

Besides, it's better to party when you don't need a nurse to do a keg-stand.

Green Light

vidiotreviews.blogspot.com

I thoroughly enjoyed this film. The story is lively and great, the dialog quick,witty and fabulous, darling. The performances are outstanding, particularly Stephan Campbell Moore, David Tennent, James McAvoy and especially Fenella Woolgar, who plays her supporting role brilliantly. Emily Mortimer's beauty makes her acting a non-issue, but she is perfect in her portrayal of the fickle love interest. Stephen Fry's direction pulls it all together in such a delightful way that I felt as if I was one of the bright young things tagging along from party to party, race course to race course, bomb-drop to bomb-drop, and home again.