Filth

Writer/Director Jon S. Baird’s film of the novel Filth (by Scotland’s premiere writer of brutal black-comedy Irvine Welsh) certainly lives up to its name, but doesn’t fulfill its promise. Baird and his star James McAvoy (Atonement, The Last King of Scotland, Trance) are unable to make the material feel fresh. The style lacks the power and originality of Trainspotting or Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels and McAvoy (though he gives it his all) is the wrong choice to play the story's damaged, misanthropic, prick-cop. Imogen Poots, Jamie Bell, Joanne Froggatt, Eddie Marsan and the ubiquitous Jim Broadbent are all wasted in two-dimensional roles. This is yet another film about an anti-hero that explores his behavior by overt voice-over narration and visualizing his demons via goofy hallucinations and long-played-out dream sequences.