Our young hero, Adam (STEPHEN CAMPBELL MOORE - RSC), needs to get enough money to marry the beautiful Nina (EMILY MORTIMER - Young Adam, 51st State, Love’s Labour’s Lost, Elizabeth). His friends - eccentric, wild, louche and entirely shocking to the older generation, seem one by one to self-destruct, to crash and burn in their endless search for newer and faster sensations.

Their world is that of the very young, wild, party-loving creatures new to gramophone records and the telephone - this is a self-consciously modern generation that cannot keep still for a second. They are known to the press, who follow their every move, as the Bright Young Things. [TRAILER]

STEVEN SNYDER'S REVIEW

If there was ever a film to prove my theory that we, as a species, have lost our sense of purpose, “Bright Young Things” is it.

Something has been lost amid our SUV’s and cell phones, a lost connection to nature and that essential drive to survive and provide. We no longer need to hunt our own food or migrate with the seasons, but instead have evolved to the point of apathy. We walk only a few feet each day, get our nourishment from the closest chain restaurant, and veg out in front of the TV.

Now imagine removing even work from the equation, and the loss of that final need for monetary stability, and you have “Bright Young Things;” a world in which its inhabitants truly have no reason to be.

Adam (Stephen Campbell Moore), Nina (Emily Mortimer) and Agatha (Fenella Woolgar) exist in the landscape of the social elites, given purpose only by where they dine, who they dine with, and whether they get mentioned in London’s top gossip column. They are followed by photographers, are constantly scrutinized and, as one character realizes later on, they perform their little celebrity dance faster and faster for the amusement of the masses.

The story takes place just before World War II, which makes this group’s collective apathy and ambivalence that much more striking. Just as the world is going to war, these few elites are unable to see beyond that night’s party of that day’s gossip, and just as the blood of soldiers is making nations and fortunes irrelevant, these few are obsessing more than ever about their personal fortunes and social status.

Our guide through this shallow maze is Adam, who seems to be the imposter of the bunch; without a penny to his name, but always wearing the tux, making the social appearances and speaking with a refined dignity. When Nina won’t marry him because he’s not rich enough, Adam becomes the sympathetic figure of the film, and we watch as he fights in vain to secure a small fortune and become part of this class that he finds so intoxicating.

Films of this sort are typically told in one of three ways: cynically, ironically or tragically. And while “Bright Young Things” is clearly an intelligent and passionate work, it suffers because it stumbles between these styles and occasionally negates its own points.

Writer and director Stephen Fry is at his best when reveling in his cynical asides, such as the suicide of one elitist who is not invited to the “big party,” and the shallowness of these characters as they wade through their empty routines. They are truly without perspective or understanding, only interacting with the “common man” in terms of cab drivers or waiters, and only able to discuss the latest social event or gossip.

It is in the story’s final act, however, when the natural progression of these various dramas leads to a series of self-realizations that force us to look at the movie in an entirely new way.

Adam’s displacement from his social cliché helps us to see these snobs from afar, when we’re inclined to laugh at how vulgar, mundane and pathetic these sophisticates really are. Yet in the opposite direction, Adam’s hardships leave us sympathetic for his plight to attain the wealth of his dreams, and “Bright Young Thing’s” last shot reinforces the notion that all of these characters end up with exactly what they always wanted.

The result is a film with a confused aftertaste, a story that has viewed these characters in so many different lights that we’re aware of being disoriented and detached from a singular vision or judgment.

In some cases ambiguity opens the path to interpretation. Here, however, I’m not sure it’s a good thing.

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