THE BEST OF BRITISH
Five films that represent the best the UK has to offer at the Edinburgh Film Festival - whether produced in the UK, directed by British talent or starring British actors.


You may remember director David Mackenzie's previous films, Young Adam and Asylum, with respective Tomatometers favouring fresh and rotten. In the eyes of the critics we've spoken to, and this dashing RT-UK editor, Hallam Foe looks set to do away with any doubts and land firmly as one of the year's freshest.

Being the tale of a rather strange teenager, the titular Hallam, who escapes a devilish stepmother for the lofty heights of Edinburgh and falls in love with a woman who's the spitting image of his mother, the oedipal tale is at turns hilarious and heart-rending. As is Mackenzie's wont, it's about real people with unique lives and as a coming-of-age drama there is none finer. Its depiction of this festival's host city, Edinburgh, isn't troubled by big-screen sheen - this is the real Edinburgh, and it's beautiful.

Bell and Myles are outstanding, and Claire Forlani reaches a level of wicked sadism that only Claire Forlani could accomplish and still have you falling madly in love with her. It's quirky, but not so quirky that it becomes ridiculous, and it's probably one of the finest films you'll see this year.



We first experienced a sprinkle of Stardust courtesy of director Matthew Vaughn's invitation to the edit suite and while we loved what we saw we were curious to see if the film could maintain the pitch of the footage for its entire runtime. Having taken two trips to see the unfinished version, we'd say we're fairly enthusiastic about the results.

Based on the novel by Neil Gaiman (to settle the argument before it starts, it began life as an illustrated novel before being published without the illustrations), Stardust follows young Tristan Thorn (newcomer Charlie Cox) as he journeys across "the wall" into a magical land in quest of a falling star to retrieve for the beautiful Victoria (Sienna Miller) in exchange for her hand in marriage. When he discovers the star is actually a young woman (Claire Danes), they begin a quest back home and, along the way, are pursued by a handsome prince (Mark Strong), a wicked witch (Michelle Pfeiffer) and a devilish pirate (Robert De Niro), all of whom have their own designs on the star.

And if that cast list isn't enough to woo you, pray silence as we barrage you with Peter O'Toole, Ian McKellen, Mark Williams, Ricky Gervais, David Walliams and Rupert Everett.

And we have a Princess Bride fan in the office who's convinced he's found a movie to rival his classic. You can start queuing now.



On paper WAZ (the A is actually a Delta symbol so it's pronounced Was or W-Delta-Z depending on the mood you're in) looks like every other torture porn movie cluttering cinemas at the moment. But to lump it in with Saw and Hostel would be to do it a disservice, because this debut feature from director Tom Shankland is much more inventive.

Detective Eddie Argo and his new partner, Helen Westcott, begin investigating a series of grisly murders with one thing in common; a mathematical equation has been carved into each of the victims. When they learn that the equation - the WAZ of the title is a part of it - is designed to test altruism, and that the victims are being offed in pairs, forced to kill each other to "save" themselves, the case turns even nastier, and as Westcott gets to know her new precinct she's seeing things that don't add up in the police department's handling of previous cases.

Set in New York but filmed, predominantly, in Belfast, with a cast that includes a Swede, an Australian and a Brit, the accents are a touch on the unpredictable side, but stirring performances from Stellan Skarsgard, Melissa George, Ashley Walters and Selma Blair make you forget those troubles, and the film creates a visually arresting universe and ramping tension that keep you glued to the screen.



Lest you think we have a thing for Ashley Walters, it's worth pointing out that Sugarhouse and WAZ mark genuinely impressive turns by the young actor following his stunning breakthrough in Bullet Boy. We'd make some sort of So Solid Career pun but that'd be annoying.

Sugarhouse, another debut film this time from director Gary Love, is a smarter kind of Brit gangster flick. Walters is crackhead D who is looking to sell a gun to Steven Mackintosh's city worker. D's motives are money, his client's are revenge. But there's a third in the form of Andy Serkis as this year's most terrifying baddie, Hoodwink. The gun's his and he's damn sure not going to let D sell it on.

Based on a play, Sugarhouse is decidedly intimate, most of the action collected around D's crack den, and its sense of realism - lacking in the works of Guy Ritchie and Matthew Vaughn - is refreshing. It's not about effing and blinding, it's about the seedier side of life.



Anton Corbijn's Control captivated audiences upon its Cannes debut earlier this year, and with good reason; the biopic of Joy Division's late lead singer, Ian Curtis, delivers a somber but beautiful glimpse into the life of the tortured musician that should enrich fans of the Manchester band and move the uninitiated in comparable measure.

Shot in gorgeously stark black and white monochrome, Control follows Curtis (Sam Riley), a sensitive working-class daydreamer in 1970s England, as he falls into the role of lead singer for a local band. That band, of course, soon becomes post-punk legend Joy Division; the lads sign a record deal, go on tour, and get big. But life gets in the way of fame for Curtis, and the demands of his budding fame - a young wife (Samantha Morton) and child, and a new girlfriend (Alexandra Maria Lara) on the side - paired with recurring epileptic seizures that render him helpless sometimes mid-concert, become too much for him to juggle.

With its pulsating score (all songs performed, and well, by the actors themselves) and a transcendent central performance by Curtis doppelganger Riley, Control paints a sensitive portrait of a tragic artist whose legacy lived on for decades after his untimely death at the age of 23.