There is nothing new under the sun or, rather, in The Sun! Here we find a tumble of celebrity misbehaviour, cocaine abuse tabloid mischievousness and general all round debauchery. The parallels of this tale of 1930's London with the paparazzi fodder of today are rather too obvious to dwell upon but, nevertheless, the comparison does add poignancy.

Loosely based on Evelyn Waugh's Vile Bodies, BYT marks the directorial debut of Stephen Fry who, backed by the Michael Winterbottom/Andrew Eaton team responsible for 24 Hour Party People, has added numerous stylistic twists to tug the tale into a contemporary framework.

The story is disarmingly simple. Struggling novelist falls under the patronage of Fleet Street magnate and becomes scandal-seeking gossip columnist. Guided by the lure of easy money, the celebrity tittle-tattle becomes increasingly far fetched as the writer - Adam - sinks deeper and deeper into shameless gossip mongering. There is a nice twist as his vitriolic pen rebounds to him from the mouth of a taxi driver who, apparently, believes all he reads.

The film, as Waugh's original and superior title hints, is about dreadful, shallow people living in a shell of financial security and knowing little of the real world. However, that reality does start to push in the form of expanding debt, suicide, insanity and, finally, the outbreak of war. The later stages of the film are transported to the battlefield although Fry cleverly keeps the general air of frivolity rolling. While failing to develop any of the lead characters beyond that bland party animal faade, and being a little overlong, BYT must still be regarded as a triumphant debut and a further stylish success for the increasingly important - and British - filmmakers, Revolution.