Among the quirks of British screen history is the fact that the leading exponents of what become known as `heritage cinema' were an Indian producer, an American director and a German screenwriter. Having initially been drawn to Henry James in The Europeans (1979) and The Bostonians (1984), Ismail Merchant, James Ivory and Ruth Prawer Jhabvala took a particular liking to the works of Edwardian novelist EM Forster, with A Room With a View (1985) being followed by Maurice (1987) and Howards End (1992).

The latter is reissued in a newly restored print to mark the 25th anniversary of a period classic that converted three of its nine Oscar nominations into wins for Jhabvala, production designers Luciana Arrighi and Ian Whittaker and leading actress Emma Thompson, who would reunite the following year with co-star Anthony Hopkins for the equally masterly Kazuo Ishiguro adaptation, The Remains of the Day. Director Alan Parker dismissed the Merchant Ivory style as 'the Laura Ashley school of film-making'. But, to paraphrase Henry Wilcox: 'Poor judges are poor judges. One is sorry for them. But there it is.'

Following a heady kiss in the moonlight, Helen Schlegel (Helena Bonham Carter) writes to inform her sister, Margaret (Emma Thompson), that she is engaged to Paul Wilcox (Joseph Bennett). But, while Margaret discusses the implications of the news over breakfast with her Aunt Juley (Prunella Scales) and brother Tibby (Adrian Ross Magenty), Paul has apologised to Helen for letting his emotions get the better of him and has cycled to the post office to send a telegram to ask Margaret not to come to Howards End to discuss the forthcoming nuptials.

Unfortunately, Aunt Juley has already taken a train to the country and she accepts a lift to the house from Paul's older brother, Charles (James Wilby). He takes the tidings very badly while motoring along a winding road and Aunt Juley is so appalled by his ungallant remarks that she threatens to jump from the moving vehicle in disgust. They pass a bicycling Paul en route and Helen is surprised to see her aunt scramble out of the car and wrap her in a protective embrace.

Several months later, Helen attends a lecture in London by a Beethoven expert (Simon Callow) and his pianist mother (Mary Nash). Absent-mindedly, Helen leaves with an umbrella belonging to Leonard Bast (Samuel West), who pursues her in a downpour across the capital to their house in Wycombe Place, which just happen to be across from the apartment the Wilcox clan has leased for the summer to prepare for Charles's marriage, Keen to avoid a scene, Helen agrees to stay with an aunt in Hamburg, but Tibby finds the coincidence amusing and jokes about having to punch Paul on the nose for embarrassing his sister. But he sits silently on the sofa when Helen invites Leonard inside to reclaim his brolly and Margaret fusses over him so gushingly as she offers him tea that he flees in the agonised realisation that he does not belong.

Hurrying to the poorer part of town, he is welcomed back to his cramped bedsit by his wife, Jacky (Nicola Duffett), who is quite content to remain on the lower rungs of the social ladder. She doesn't share Leonard's desire to improve himself at music and meaning talks and tries to coax him into putting his book down so they can go to bed. The room shakes as trains thunder past, but the text allows Leonard to escape from his dimly lit reality and he fingers the calling card that Margaret had given him with a curiosity that is every bit as overpowering as the shame he had felt when Helen had unintentionally commented on the shabbiness of his umbrella.

With Helen safely in Germany, Margaret pays a visit to Ruth Wilcox (Vanessa Redgrave). whom she had met a couple of summers earlier in the German town of Speyer. She discovers that Paul has gone to work in Nigeria and that Ruth is alone because Charles and his new bride, Dolly (Susie Lindeman), are honeymooning in Naples, while her husband, Henry (Anthony Hopkins), and daughter Evie (Jemma Redgrave) are motoring around Yorkshire. Ruth is dismayed to learn that Wycombe Place is to be demolished when the lease expires and confides that Howards End was similarly endangered shortly after she had inherited it from a brother who had died in India. Despite feeling unwell, she takes pity on Margaret, as she had been born in the house, and reminisces fondly about the pony that had lived in the paddock during her idyllic childhood. Margaret repays the compliment by inviting Ruth to lunch, where she compliments Annie the maid (Jo Kendall) on putting up with the progressive conversation of the younger guests. Ruth suggests that mothers should unite to bring an end to war and Margaret is charmed by her faith in the better side of human nature. Consequently, when the table falls silent after Ruth suggests that she would rather women didn't get the vote, Margaret shuffles the party into the drawing room and apologises to Ruth for being such a poor hostess. But Ruth finds her such agreeable company that she asks her to help with the Christmas shopping and is embarrassed when Ruth insists on adding her own name to the present list. She is even more taken aback when Ruth asks in one shop whether Margaret can save Wycombe Place from the wrecking ball and shudders when she replies that the landlord intends building an apartment block, as she has no idea how people can willingly live in such confined spaces.

On returning from the shopping expedition, Ruth reveals that she is soon to have an operation and suddenly expresses a desire to see Howards End again. She urges Margaret to come with her on the five o'clock train and is crestfallen when her friend declines. But Margaret dashes to meet Ruth at the station and she is excitedly chattering about showing her the meadow in the sunshine when they bump into Henry and Evie, who convince Ruth that it would be better if she returned to the flat and a disappointed Margaret bids them farewell on the platform.

When she next sees Ruth, she is in hospital, reaching up from her bed to accept a bunch of wild flowers. Henry thanks Margaret for coming. But, when Ruth dies and he finds a note written in pencil leaving Howards End to this outsider (in a tragically doomed effort to prevent it falling into the unworthy hands of her husband and son), he conspires with Charles and Evie to tear up the paper and toss it on the fire, as he questions whether his late wife was in a sound state of mind when she made the bequest.

Time passes and Helen and Margaret (who has no idea she has been swindled) are puzzled when Jacky appears on their doorstep demanding to know the whereabouts of her husband. The Schlegels have completely forgotten about Leonard and are amused when he arrives during dinner to apologise for Jacky's behaviour. He is nettled by their teasing after he explains that the delay in calling on them was caused by an all-night walk into the countryside. But he stays for coffee and is pleased when Helen recognises the similarity between his desire to get out of the city and a chapter in George Meredith's The Ordeal of Richard Feverel.

This jolly evening persuades the Schlegels to consult their women's discussion group about how they could help the Basts. As they stroll home, they bump into Henry, who informs them that he has leased out Howards End and taken a house in Mayfair. Margaret is dismayed to hear the family has abandoned Ruth's childhood home, but Helen is keen to pick Henry's brains, as he is a successful businessman with the Imperial and West African Rubber Company. She asks about the Porphyrion insurance firm where Leonard works and Henry avers that it is in difficulties and could easily go under. But Leonard is aghast when the sisters break the news over tea and he is about to storm out in high dudgeon when Henry and Evie arrive to show them their new puppy. Margaret sends Helen after the humiliated clerk and she chides him for mistaking their affection for him for interference. Moreover, as he grabs his hat and coat from the hall pegs, she convinces him to seek a new position before Portphyrion crumbles and he is suitably mollified and grateful.

Upstairs, Evie can barely disguise her contempt when Henry presents Margaret with a perfume bottle as a keepsake of his late wife. She invites Margaret to lunch with her fiancé, Percy Cahill (Mark Payton) and seems intent on warning her off the family, only to find her father has joined them and has already secured a table. Evie makes a hand gesture to Percy to mock Margaret's garrulousness, as she laments the fact that she is struggling to find new accommodation. However, Evie is jolted when Margaret bemoans being unable to rent Howards End, but she quickly reverts to flirting with Percy, as Henry causes Margaret to blush with his flattery.

Aware that he will no longer need a large house after Evie's imminent wedding, Henry invites Margaret for a tour. Aunt Juley resents Margaret leaving their holiday home in Devon to return to the capital, while Helen makes it clear that she has no time for the Wilcoxes and exhorts her sister to be circumspect. But Margaret is hugely impressed by the house, especially with the size of the echoey ballroom. Yet she retains her composure when Henry makes a gauche proposal of marriage on the staircase and kisses him firmly on the lips before gathering her gloves and bag and beating a hasty retreat. During tea in the garden, Charles blames Evie for allowing a gold-digger to get her foot in the Wilcox door and shouts down Dolly when she tries to offer a suggestion while dandling her baby. But Helen is no more enamoured of developments, especially when Henry lets slip that the Porphyrion has turned around its fortunes after Leonard had left to take up a lesser post. She seethes in the stiff seaside breeze, as Henry advises her not to sentimentalise the poor, and can barely suppress her rage when Margaret declares that her duty is now to support her husband in all things. Consequently, she is going to leave Devon to help Henry sort out a tenant problem at Howards End and she further infuriates her sister when she laughs at her claim to be an old maid.

Charles puts on a brave face when Margaret pops into the office and his rictus grin becomes more clenched when his father suddenly starts waltzing with his fiancée. Dolly joins them on the jaunt and is ticked off when she forgets the key to the house. Margaret stays alone and wanders round the garden. She peers in through a window and is pleasantly surprised to find the front door is open.

Venturing inside, she explores the empty rooms that will soon contain her furniture, while she works out where to store it. Hearing footsteps upstairs, Margaret runs into Miss Avery (Barbara Hicks), who has long lived in the grounds and who charms Margaret by noting a resemblance to Ruth. She finds the tree with pigs teeth studding the bark that Ruth had told her about and seems surprised that Henry knows nothing about its healing properties. As they drive home, Dolly explains how Margaret's brother had unsuccessfully proposed to Miss Avery and she chuckles at the notion that she would have become Charley's Aunt. But it's clear from the reverential manner in which Miss Avery and Tom, the farmer's boy (Luke Parry) unpack Margaret's belongings that she recognises someone who shares Ruth's tastes and love of the house.

While Margaret accompanies Henry to his Shropshire estate for Evie's marriage to Percy, Helen spies Leonard asking after vacancies at a London bank. He is stung by the brusque manner of the bank supervisor (Antony Gilding) and admits that he has been on his uppers since being made redundant. Blaming Henry for his poor advice, Helen vows to make amends. Meanwhile, Margaret is gazing in awe at the family portraits and joshes Henry about the fact that he bought the place lock, stock and barrel from an impoverished blueblood who decamped to Italy. The history of the estate means nothing to Henry, while Charles is more concerned about how the Wilcox properties will be divided up between himself, Evie and Paul. Hiding in the turret of the ruined castle, he kisses the expectant Dolly and wonders what will happen if Margaret and his father have children.

Returning from a walk in time to see the bridal party depart, Margaret is horrified to see that Helen has dragged Leonard and Jacky to the reception. She tries to shush her sister, as she complains bitterly that the Basts have been left to starve because of Henry's ill-considered counsel. Desperate to avoid a scene, Margaret takes Helen away from the marquee and orders her to calm down. Aware that they have a responsibility to the couple, she promises to speak to Henry about finding Leonard a position. But she wants them off the premises before they embarrass the family and Helen agrees to find rooms at the local inn.

While Helen and Leonard wander into the village, Margaret persuades Henry to give her protégé a job. Left to her own devices, however, Jacky helps herself to cake and champagne. She is drunk, therefore, when she recognises Henry from past assignations and calls out to him from across the tent. Deeply affronted, he hurries away and accuses Margaret of entrapment, as he stumbles between the trees in the garden. Despite her protests, he releases her from their engagement and she is left to face the astonished guests alone. Rushing into the house, she collapses in front of her bedroom mirror and sobs because the man she thought so perfect has feet of clay and because her seemingly settled future is suddenly in jeopardy.

Having waved of Colonel Fussell (Peter Cellier), Margaret goes in search of Henry. He is smoking alone and (in a series of dissolve scenes) keen to hide his shame. Margaret assures him that he is already forgiven, but he explains that he met Jacky in Cyprus a decade ago and that he had succumbed to temptation. He laments the fact that Helen has taken up with such low sorts and Margaret agrees to send a message urging her sister to get rid of the Basts and come and stay at the house. However, Leonard has already told Helen that Henry had seduced Jacky when she was a 16 year-old orphan trying to earn her passage home and Helen is outraged. As Jacky watches from her bedroom window, however, she sees Helen and Leonard go rowing on the river together. She apologises for landing him in such a mess and contrasts his decency towards Jacky with Henry's callousness. Leonard is embarrassed by her kind words and invites her to help him row. But, as they drift under a shady tree, they start to kiss.

Visiting Tibby in Oxford, Helen decides to travel in Germany rather than attend her sister's wedding. She makes arrangements for a cheque for £5000 to be sent to the Basts. But Leonard returns it uncashed to Tibby and keeps searching for a job. Although excited at the prospect of building a new home with her husband, Margaret becomes increasingly worried by the uninformative postcards that keep arriving from the continent. She goes to see Tibby at Magdalen, but he claims to be none the wiser. When Aunt Juley falls ill, they send a telegram from Devon and Margaret confides in her brother that she thinks Helen's hatred of Henry has left her teetering on the verge of madness. He suggests she is simply being her highly strung self, but he still agrees to meet with Henry and Charles when Helen arrives in London and asks to collect some of her belongings from Howards End.

Charles is appalled by the idea, but Henry orders him to remain silent. He also asks a doctor to accompany them to the country so he can assess Helen's mental state. On arrival, however, Margaret sees that her sister is four months pregnant and she ushers her inside and persuades Henry to give them some time alone. She is taken aback when Helen reveals that Leonard is the father and that she intends raising the child alone in Germany. But she is also surprised when Helen asks if she can sleep among her things for a final time. However, Henry refuses to give his permission and quarrels with Margaret when she questions why he can accept her forgiveness for his adultery when he refuses to recognise that Helen has merely committed the same sin.

Having been to Oxford to bully Tibby into revealing Leonard's name, Charles goes to Howards End to supervise Helen's departure. However, Leonard has been told the family's whereabouts by Annie and he arrives at Hilton Junction to see them. The mere mention of his name sends Charles into a macho rage and he grabs an antique sword and thrashes Leonard with the flat of the blade. He pulls a bookcase on top of himself in suffering a fatal coronary and Charles is charged with manslaughter, even though the deceased was suffering from an advanced form of heart disease.

Henry breaks down as Margaret announces that she is leaving him to care for Helen, but it's only the summer after his son is taken away to prison that he finally does the decent thing. He invites Dolly, Evie and Paul to Howards End and informs them that he is leaving the house to Margaret so that she can bequeath it to her nephew. Everyone agrees to the terms, but Dolly lets slip the irony that Ruth's last wish has finally been granted. As Helen plays with her child in the garden, Margaret asks Henry what Dolly meant and he comes clean about the note. He insists that he thought Ruth had scribbled it without clear thought and he asks Margaret if he had done the right thing in disregarding it. She seems to forgive him once more, as the deceptively idyllic scene fades to black.

Although it was published on 18 October 1910, much of the action of Howards End strictly falls inside the Edwardian period and few novels expose its myriad contradictions more perceptively. Forster was a shrewd observer of the social scene and his insights into the class system and the tangle of restrictions and conventions that governed it are deceptively disarming. He may not have been as radical as Robert Tressel or DH Lawrence, but this dissection of the `condition of England' remains acute a century on and, indeed, many of its criticisms of the self-serving plutocracy and the alienated lower classes still feel dismayingly relevant. Similarly, Merchant Ivory's adaptation defies those condescendingly crass `chocolate box' accusations to present a country at a crossroads. The Great War would prove the catalyst, but this feels much more like a fin de siècle than a Belle Époque saga. Much of the fascination lies in the tension between Helen and Henry and her bafflement at Margaret's devotion in the light of his many misdemeanours. As played by Anthony Hopkins, Henry has standards rather than emotions and his failure to appreciate Ruth's love of Howards End and Margaret's attachment to the possessions that end up filling it epitomises his philistinic pomposity and explains the boorish worldview that Charles has adopted in an effort to please a distant and forbidding father.

In many ways, the Schlegels feel like grown-up versions of the Waterbury siblings from Edith Nesbit's The Railway Children, as they take up the cause of the Basts in much the same way that Bobbie, Phyllis and Peter had befriended Perks the station porter. Moreover, Leonard Bast has much in common with Arthur Kipps in HG Wells's Kipps (and its musicalisation, Half a Sixpence), while they manner in which he regales the sisters of his nocturnal peregrinations recalls Alfred Polly's bashful bid to impress his cackling spinster cousins in The History of Mr Polly. Despite the best efforts of Helena Bonham Carter and Samuel West, the scene of desperately impulsive passion rings slightly hollow, as does Vanessa Redgrave's Oscar-nominated air of fading unworldliness at the luncheon with the bright young things and Hopkins's highly contrived wedding encounter with Nicola Duffett. But the performance are universally impeccable, with Emma Thompson's award-winning display (in a role that was declined by Phoebe Nicholls, Joely and Natasha Richardson, Miranda Richardson and Tilda Swinton) constantly challenging the audience to look beneath its surface serenity to locate the more complex feelings and moral strength moiling beneath.

On the craft side, this deeply involving human drama is unimpeachable and quite remarkable, given that it was made for just $8 million. Jenny Beavan and John Bright's exquisite costumes and Richard Robbins's fleet score were as unlucky in their Oscar snubs as Tony Pierce-Roberts's cinematography, which achieves wondrous contrasts between the natural lighting of the bluebell field through which Leonard strides and the warm glow inside Fortnum & Mason during the Christmas shopping expedition. The sharp-eyed will recognise Oxford Town Hall as the scene of the Music and Meaning meeting, while Peppard Cottage, the former home of Lady Ottoline Morrell in Rotherfield Peppard near Henley, does service as the eponymous abode. James Ivory also makes evocative use of the magnificent staircase at 2 Audley Street for the proposal sequence. But every setting seems exactly right, as Ivory, Merchant and Jhabvala capture the spirit of Forster, the look and feel of his times and the enduring socio-political dichotomies that make this a film as much worth seeing today as it was a quarter of a century ago.

Life was also tough back in 1949. Clement Attlee's landslide Labour government might have been nationalising for all it was worth while laying the foundations of the Welfare State, but Britain was still a bombsite and rationing had deprived the populace of the few pleasures that might have made the period of postwar austerity a bit more bearable. Thus, when Ealing released Alexander Mackendrick's waspish adaptation of Compton Mackenzie's satirical novel, Whisky Galore!, everyone in the audience could identify with the Scottish islanders seeking to pull a fast one on the Customs and Excise men.

Seven decades on and times are still tough. Brexit has divided the nation and cast a shroud of uncertainty over its immediate future, which is made all the more unpredictable by the Scottish Question. There may be no rationing, but there are food banks and people are more mistrustful of authority than ever before. But, rather than drawing parallels between then and now, Gilles MacKinnon's remake of Whisky Galore! opts for a cosy patina of nostalgia that makes this entirely redundant exercise feel like a pilot for Last of the Summer Scotch.

Tucked away in the Outer Hebrides, the residents of the island of Todday have scarcely been inconvenienced by the Second World War. Indeed, the only suggestion that something is amiss is the presence of the local Home Guard commander, Captain Cyril Waggett (Eddie Izzard). An old school pompous buffoon, he takes his duties very seriously and scarcely notices that his wife, Dolly (Fenella Woolgar), is forever teasing him about the futility of his sinecure.

Down in the village, the morale of the locals is sapped when landlord Bain (Ken Drury) announces that his whisky supply has run out and ferry skipper Mckechnie (Matt Costello) compounds the situation by being unable to secure a fresh stock. While Waggett gets himself into a tizzy about a consignment of unsuitable ammunition, widowed postmaster Joseph Macroon (Gregor Fisher) bemoans the fact that his daughters, Peggy (Naomi Battrick) and Catriona (Ellie Kendrick), are fast approaching the age when they will leave him to set up homes of their own.

Tearing herself away from newspaper headlines about the scandalous behaviour of the Duke and Duchess of Windsor, Peggy delights in the arrival of her beau, Sergeant Odd (Sean Biggerstaff). He is on leave after seeing action in North Africa and seeks out Minister MacAlister (James Cosmo) for some advice on how to persuade Macroon into giving his consent for a marriage. But Catriona has a further obstacle blocking her engagement to milquetoast schoolmaster George Campbell (Kevin Guthrie), as his forbidding mother (Annie Louise Ross) refuses to let Catriona come for tea, let alone steal her boy away.

Across the island, Waggett supervises Angus (Brian Pettifer), Sammy (Iain Robertson) and Biffer (Anthony Strachan) in the erection of a checkpoint to prevent Nazi troops from taking the island by force. He bluffs his way to a solution when Odd points out that all an unlikely invader would have to do to circumvent his precautions is approach from the opposite direction. But he falls foul of Doctor McLaren (John Sessions), who resents having his car stopped after spending the night delivering twins to the wife of a serving soldier who has been having an affair with Sammy.

Two weeks into the drought, Macroon laments that the platoon is suffering so badly from whisky withdrawal that it wouldn't be a fair fight if Hitler chose to attack. Old Roddy (Sean Scanlan) is also feeling the effects and confides to Dr McLaren that he would like one more dram before he dies. A fog descends and the islanders worry for the freighter SS Cabinet Minister as it negotiates the skerries off the coast. But Captain Buncher (Mike Tibbetts) steers straight on to them and Biffer and Sammy row out to discover that the ship is carrying sundry items for the Bahamas and 50,000 cases of whisky for New York.

Quickly realising that there are 12 bottles in each case, Sammy and Biffer relay the good news to the villagers. But, while they get the stranded crew tucked up in a nearby boarding house, they are prevented from liberating the cargo by the strictly sabbatarian MacAlister. He preaches a brimstone sermon, but stops short of condemning the recovery of the whisky. But Waggett is determined to prevent any looting and tries to order his men to keep watch over the stricken ship. But Mrs Campbell locks George in his room for disobeying the Commandments and he is forced to put Odd on duty overnight. He has gone to see Macroon about marrying Peggy and is informed that nothing can be guaranteed until two cases of whisky have been obtained to hold the traditional reiteach celebration.

Prepared to collude with the locals in order to get two cases of Macroon's choice, Odd allows himself to be tied up so that a flotilla of small boats can row out to the wreck in the small hours of Monday morning. Also keeping an eye on the Cabinet Minister is Brown (Michael Nardone), who claims to be a tweed salesman, but who is keen to recover a red case from the captain's cabin. Revealing himself to be from the Ministry of Defence, he places a call to Waggett from the island's only phone box in the knowledge it will be overheard by Macroon, who about to join the rescue party.

He finds the case just as the ship lurches and starts to slip off the rocks. But, while they have to make a hasty getaway, the villagers manage to salvage several cases of whisky and they smuggle them ashore and hide them in a cave before Waggett relieves Odd on the headland. While they have a party at the pub (much to the annoyance of Bain, who serves drinks he cannot charge for), Waggett contacts his mainland commander, Woolsey (Tim Pigott-Smith), who is more interested in getting a couple of contraband cases for himself than in helping Waggett prevent a little petty pilfering. Brown is equally eager to retrieve the leather case and Macroon discovers why when he finds it contains love letters from the abdicated Edward VIII to Wallis Simpson.

Canny enough to recognise he has an important bargaining chip, Macroon does his best to thwart Waggett and Constable McPhee (Ciaron Kelly), as they search for the recovered cargo. But the islanders are attending the reiteach, where Macroon makes a sentimental speech about his daughters and his much-lamented wife before MacAlister confirms that he will marry the happy couples on the solstice. They also fortify George so he can go home and inform his mother that she will have to move out unless she accepts Catriona.

Unfortunately, Waggett overhears the music and forces McPhee into conducting a house-to-house search. He begins with Bain, who is so fed up with losing custom that he tells Waggett where the cases are hidden and he speeds across the island to the cave in Seal Bay. Knowing that Peggy will eavesdrop on his call, Waggett makes arrangements to consult Woolsey about his unwanted ammunition. But, while he really intends making contact with exciseman Farquharson (Kevin Mains), Macroon cuts a deal with Brown to arrange for Waggett to be transferred in return for the safe handover of the case.

Brown also tips off Macroon that Farquharson is on his way. But he is just as much a stuffed shirt as Waggett and insists on searching homesteads rather than going straight to the cave. While they waste their time with Macroon, his neighbours hide their bottles around the island and, after Bain confesses to his treachery, a lorry races to Seal Bay to remove the cases before the Customs cutter can dock. Islanders cycle to the cave and form a line to load up the whisky so the truck can depart just before Waggett and Farquharson arrive. But they run out of petrol and have to fill the tank with spirits to make good their getaway, as Angus holds up Waggett on the road on the pretext he is an impostor.

They are further delayed by slow-moving cyclists on the narrow road and Waggett's misery is compounded when Farquharson learns from the mainland that several bottles of whisky have been hidden in the ammunition box whose contents had been personally guaranteed by Waggett himself. Thus, unlike Mrs Campbell, he misses the double wedding and the ceidlidh that goes on into the night, with Macroon dancing alongside his girls, as there was never yet a wind that didn't fill somebody's sails.

Producer Iain Maclean first mooted revisiting this classic Ealing comedy in 2004, with Bill Bryden attached to overhaul Compton Mackenzie and Angus MacPhail's screenplay. However, the project was consigned to development hell two years later after Peter McDougall was hired as Bryden's replacement and Maclean was only able to spring it after he teamed up with Irishman Peter Drayne in 2014. Yet, despite the best efforts of all concerned, one is left to wonder why so much time and energy has been invested in a picture that fails to match (let alone improve upon) its illustrious predecessor in a single regard, while also having the temerity to reference the red phone box in Bill Forsyth's Local Hero (1983).

One must feel sympathy for the ensemble, as there is no way they can compete with the original cast, especially when the characters have been so thinly drawn. Although saddled with a stillborn subplot about the links between Hitler and the Windsors, Gregor Fisher does what he can to convey the rascally cunning of Wylie Watson, while Naomi Battrick captures something of Joan Greenwood's kittenish charisma. But Eddie Izzard fights a losing battle to make one forget the brilliance of Basil Radford's performance as Captain Waggett, although he can take solace from the fact that he fares no worse than Toby Jones did in filling the boots of Arthur Lowe in essaying Captain Wainwaring in Oliver Parker's execrably unnecessary retooling of Dad's Army (2016).

Cinematographer Nigel Willoughby achieves some shimmering views of the Western Isle locations, while Patrick Doyle's score mines musical cliché to achieve a disarmingly haunting quality. But, while those who know nothing of Alexander Mackendrick's version might be amused by the amiable storyline, the majority will be hugely disappointed by this soporific saga, whose lack of satirical subversion leaves one asking why the producers didn't opt for a Brexit variation on Henry Cornelius's Passport to Pimlico (1949) instead.

Although it's often credited with helping launch the 1980s vogue for neo-noir, Joel and Ethan Coen's Blood Simple (1983) owes as much to the horror films of their buddy and sometime collaborator Sam Raimi as the hard-boiled fiction of Dashiell Hammett, who first coined the eponymous term for demented violence in his 1929 novel, Red Harvest. In the classic postwar noir, a hapless sap is lured off the straight and narrow by a femme fatale with an ulterior motive. But the Coens subvert this and many other genre conventions in a shoestring debut that returns to disc in a `director's cut' that first appeared in 1998.

In an opening monologue that seems eerily relevant given the current revelations about a certain Hollywood mogul, private investigator Lorren Visser (M. Emmet Walsh) opines that even if `you're the Pope of Rome, President of the United States or Man of the Year; somethin' can all go wrong'. Such a situation is undesirable at the best of times. But, as bartender Ray (John Getz) discovers after he spends the night with Abby (Frances McDormand) - who just happens to be the wife of his boss, Julian Marty (Dan Hedaya) - it's inevitably worse in Texas, as everyone is on their own down there.

While Ray plays pool at Julian's house while Abby gathers some things, Visser delivers some incriminating photographs to the owner of the Neon Boots bar and taunts him about being cuckolded. Julian responds by noting that messengers bearing bad news were beheaded in Ancient Greece, but Visser seems unconcerned as his picks up an envelope full of cash and reminds Marty that he is always available when needed. Bottling up his fury, Marty asks barman Meurice (Samm-Art Williams) if he has seen Ray and gets short shrift from blonde customer Debra (Deborah Neumann) when he tries to flirt with her.

An electric flycatcher fizzes as Marty sits outside watching two men tossing rubbish into an incinerator. He barely looks up as Ray appears to demand his back pay, but warns him that Abby isn't the winsome innocent she pretends to be and says a day will come when she will betray him. Leaving with a warning not to return or face the consequences, Ray returns home to find Abby hanging up the phone after Marty silent called her. Already convinced she is trying to dupe him, he offers her the bed while he sleeps on the couch. But Abby insists he sleeps in his own bed and a neat montage follows as she looks at the ceiling fan in the shadows while Marty does the same in his dimly lit office at the bar. Eventually (to the accompaniment of a plaintive piano riff), Abby creeps down the corridor towards the sleeping Ray, who reaches up to her and she sinks down beside him, as the windy rain whistles beyond the window blinds.

The next morning, Abby sits up and pads into the living-room. She is surprised to hear Marty's Alsatian, Opal, panting and turns to see him sitting in a corner, as Marty grabs her from behind. He lifts her off the ground and puts his hand over her mouth, as he tries to drag her out to his car. But Abby manages to turn on him and he vomits on the lawn after a swift kick to the crotch. Ray comes out of the front door, as Marty struggles to the car and Opal bounds through the window into the backseat before they drive away. He heads for a local dating spot to meet Visser, who sits sweating in the front of his battered Volkswagen Beetle, with a fly nestling in the greasy hair beneath his cowboy hat. Joking about being open to all legal offers, Visser agrees to kill the lovebirds and recommends that Marty makes himself noticed on a fishing trip to give him an alibi.

But, while Marty suggests that Visser uses the incinerator to dispose of the bodies, he has another plan in mind. Reckoning that Marty is a loose cannon who may well let regret get the better of him, Visser creeps into Ray's place and steals Abby's gun before taking a photograph of the pair lying on the bed asleep. He doctors this to make it look as though they have been killed and goes to the bar to present the evidence and get paid. However, he intends shooting Marty with Abby's gun and absconding with the cash and enough planted evidence to ensure the embittered spouse is blamed for the crime.

Marty slaps down some of the fish he caught during his trip and asks to see the evidence that the deed has been done. He rushes to the bathroom to vomit and returns to open the safe and give Visser his $10,000. As he places the wads on top of the photo envelope, Marty pushes them across the desk with the heel of his boot and orders Visser to go. But he pulls Abby's gun and fires a single shot into Marty's chest, with a sneering retort about who is looking foolish now. However, in his hurry to leave, Visser fails to notice either that Marty has placed the folded picture in the safe or that he has left his trademark lighter under the putrefying fish.

No sooner has Visser left than Ray uses his key to open the front door. He has come for his wages and is peeved to find no money in the till. Seeing a light under the office door, he goes to see Marty, who is sitting in his chair. Not seeing the gun on the floor, Ray kicks it and it fires as it skids across the floor. Realising Ray is dead and convinced that Abby has shot him, Ray puts the weapon in Marty's jacket pocket and uses his own coat to clean the blood off the floor, as the ceiling fan thuds relentlessly and the computer gurgles on the desk. As he rinses it out in the sink, Meurice arrives (off screen) with Debra and puts the Four Tops hit `The Same Old Song' on the jukebox.

While they have fun, Ray drags the corpse to his car. He contemplates using the blazing incinerator, but opts for a shallow grave in a ploughed field advertising new homes after Marty moans on the backseat and crawls out of the vehicle when Ray pulls over in bind panic. Having narrowly missed being hit by a speeding truck on the unlit highway, Ray tosses the undead Marty into the hole and starts filling it in. However, Marty finds the gun in his pocket and points it at Ray, only for it to click three times without firing. Redoubling his efforts, Ray shovels the dirt until Marty is no longer a problem. He has a momentary panic when his car fails to start, but he gets away without being seen and stops at a pay phone to tell Abby he loves her. She thanks him before going back to sleep and says little when he arrives at her new apartment and falls asleep at the table.

Meanwhile, Visser has discovered that Marty swapped a photograph for a handwashing sign from the bathroom. Moreover, he realises that he left his lighter at the Neon Boots and silent calls Abby just as she is trying to fathom what Ray is talking about when he says he has cleaned up her mess. She repeats the very line about not doing anything funny that Marty warned she would use and Ray is more convinced than ever that she is in cahoots with another lover when Visser calls and Abby thinks it's Marty putting the frighteners on her again.

Across town, another phone call spooks Meurice, who finds a message from Marty accusing him or Ray of stealing a large sum from the safe. He drives over to see Ray, who just manages to cover the bloodstains on the backseat of his car, as Meurice warns him not to mess with Marty. The disappearance of his body unsettles Visser, but he is more interested in using a hammer to open the safe than finding a wandering corpse. He is forced to hide, however, when Abby shows up looking for Ray and is puzzled by the rotting fish on the desk and the hammer marks on the safe dial. She goes home and has a nightmare about Marty breaking into her apartment and warning her that Ray will try to kill her. So, when she finds Ray packing up to flee and confessing that he buried Marty alive, she is so scared that she seeks out Meurice for advice.

He tells Abby to stay away from Ray because he's gone nuts. But he is just beginning to see what has been going on, as he has found the doctored photograph in Marty's safe and recognises the VW outside the bar when he leaves. When Abby gets back to her apartment, Ray tells her to turn off the lights, as he is sure they are being watched. She is still confused, but scuttles for cover when Ray is felled by a single bullet and she has to throw her shoe to break the light bulb to plunge the room into darkness.

Checking that Ray is dead, she hides in a small room abutting the bathroom as the glass in the front door is shattered and Abby hears the slow tread of cowboy boots on the wooden floor. Visser leaves her pistol on the table, as he ventures into the bathroom. He sees the window is half open and looks out, but realises it's too high for Abby to jump. Reaching out, he feels along the wall and finds another sash window and pushes it up with his gloved hand. However, Abby grabs him and plunges a large knife into the back of his hand and cowers in the corner as Visser fires bullets into the party wall that fill the room with rays of light. As she slips out, Visser punches the panelling and manages to knock through a hole large enough so that he can remove the blade. Waiting in the shadows, Abby points the gun and shoots through the bathroom door and hears a body fall. She shouts out to Marty that she's not scared of him and the dying Visser laugh on realising he is the victim of mistaken identity and assures her that he will pass on the message if he sees him.

With Carter Burwell's ominous keyboard melody being supplemented by the heightened noises in Lee Orloff's disconcerting sound mix, this stealthy thriller still has the power to set pulses racing 34 years after it was made. In the interim, we have come to love the Coens for their snarkily off-kilter comedies. But the calculated edginess that seeps through their debut also inflects darker offerings like Miller's Crossing (1990), Barton Fink (1991), The Man Who Wasn't There (2001) and No Country for Old Men (2007), which suggest that the Minnesota siblings may still be closer in spirit to Sam Raimi than their old school Hollywood heroes.

Although Joel is the designated director and Ethan is credited as the producer, the harmony of their vision is evident in the screenplay and the use of their famous Roderick Jaynes pseudonym to share the editorial credit with Dan Wiegmann. Cinematographer Barry Sonnenfeld and production designer Jane Musky also merit mention, with the former creeping his camera through the wonderfully atmospheric sets. It remains something of a mystery what Visser hoped to achieve by blindly reaching out for an open window, but the stabbing scene remains one of many standout moments.

Most critics highlight the performances of M. Emmet Walsh, who certainly makes the most of some choice lines and intrusive close-ups, and Dan Hedaya, whose affronted inability to comprehend his wife's adultery evokes many a cuckold in the classic noir canon. But, while John Getz doesn't quite cut the mustard as the smitten palooka, Frances McDormand is simply superb as the put-upon woman who has tired of being a trophy wife and can't understand why her knight in shining armour is behaving so oddly. It's as though she's crossed June Allyson with Gene Tierney, although the look of shock on her face when she hears Walsh cackle is pure McDormand.

Born in Glasgow, but based in the United States since she was a teenager, Marianna Palka has never been afraid to challenge preconceptions. Having made an impact in Lena Dunham's landmark TV series, Girl, the 26 year-old Palka ruffled feathers with her directorial debut, Good Dick (2008), which she followed with I'm the Same (2014) and Always Worthy (2015). However, the star of the Netflix wrestling saga, GLOW, is set to rattle more cages with her latest outing as star-writer-director, Bitch, which has been inspired by unconventional Scottish psychiatrist RD Laing's account of a case of empty nest syndrome. Yet, while it has more than its share of shocking moments, this feminist fable about people becoming conditioned by their treatment by others seeks less to denounce chauvinism than to coax male viewers into reassessing their attitudes. As an Alsatian sits on a lawn in a leafy American suburb, Marianna Palka climbs on the dining-room table and fixes her husband's belt to the chandelier. Fighting back her fear, she steps off the edge and dangles in mid-air with dogs barking outside. However, her weight pulls the light fitting out of the ceiling and she crashes to the floor and the watching dog bolts through the neighbourhood.

Meanwhile, Jason Ritter is fooling around with secretary Sol Rodriguez when he is summoned to the boardroom amidst a sudden panic in the corridor. When he creeps into the dark house later that night, Palka notes that he smells of perfume and asks if she can go on a fortnight painting retreat and leave him in charge of their four children. However, he says now is not a good time, even though he denies anything is wrong at work, despite a story on the local news.

The next morning, teenage daughter Brighton Sharbino informs Palka that younger sister Kingston Foster has wet the bed again and they exchange glowers as Palka strips the sheets. At breakfast, she reminds teen son Rio Mangini to collect Foster after football practice, while middle child Jason Maybaum only pipes up when Ritter pops in before the kids head to school. Palka grabs his wrist and hisses that she is frightened she is going to do something awful and he promises to get her some pills for a good night's sleep. He hugs his offspring in an easy manner that suggests they prefer him to their mom, who is singularly unimpressed when Ritter fobs her off with a lazy `love you', as she leaves for the school run.

Arriving at work to find that Rodriguez has been fired, Ritter hopes to use his charm with boss Roger Guenveur Smith to get her reinstated. However, he has fired 179 other people already and informs Ritter that he could save them all if he simply tendered his resignation. Deciding that Rodriguez is a small price to pay for survival, Ritter slips away. But he is late home for dinner and Palka phones him as dusk falls and the Alsatian returns to its spot outside her window. After supper, Foster and Maybaum lose patience while asking to be excused from the table, as Palka stands motionless with her back to them. Mangini seems unconcerned, but Sharbino is unnerved when she asks her mother if she is okay and she snarls at her.

The following morning, Sharbino is woken by the Alsatian snuffling beside her bed and she comes down to find her siblings have made a mess in the kitchen in Palka's absence. She wakes Ritter, who has overslept and bundles the kids into the family car (he doesn't know how to drive) and takes them to school oblivious to Foster's complaint that she is wearing neither underwear nor socks. He draws gasps of incomprehension from Foster's teacher when he asks her to provide lunch for his daughter and a look of sheer incredulity when he runs away from the screaming child with reassurances that everything will be fine when Palka gets home.

Fielding an angry phone call for being late for work, Ritter has a momentary fainting fit by the climbing equipment in the playground before returning to his vehicle to launch into a furious tirade about his wife's selfishness. However, he has forgotten that Maybaum is still strapped into the backseat and he has to pretend that all is well and that he hadn't forgotten him, as he slings him over his shoulder to rush him into class.

Relieved to reach the sanctuary of his office, Ritter calls sister-in-law Jaime King and asks if she has seen Palka. She agrees to meet him after work, but they reach home to find the kids in a state of near hysterics because they have found their mother stark naked and smeared in faeces in the basement. When Ritter goes to investigate by torchlight, Palka turns and growls at him before barking loudly as she chases him up the steps. Hoping to keep things quiet, Ritter calls the doctor with great reluctance and annoys King by blaming Palka for taking a break while he is slaving to save his job and provide for the family. Eavesdropping on the row, Sharbino covers Maybaum's ears and he puts his hands over Foster's, as she does the same to her toy elephant.

Specialist Jean St James recommends psychiatric care. But Ritter accuses her of spouting jargon he could find online and demands a prescription that will restore his selfish wife to health. King is more amenable and tries to persuade him to listen. However, even though he is little more than a man-child, Ritter insists he knows what's best for him family. When he goes to work, King creeps into the basement singing a reassuring song from their childhood in the hope of soothing Palka. But she barks in her face as she scuttles back up the stairs to safety.

Tossing Palka some pills in a meatball, Ritter gets drunk and lets his wedding band slip down the guttering of the shower. He comes downstairs to find the kids have put up a Christmas tree and King look on in astonishment as he tries to force Foster into putting the star on the top. They are interrupted by a couple of cops at the door, who insist on seeing Palka on Aaron's recommendation. Ritter protests that he has a right to do what's best for his wife and, when the cops persist in their request, the horror of being shown up in public prompts Ritter to bolt for the nearby woods, where he slumps against a tree stump and wonders why this is happening to him.

Waking from a dream in which Palka suggests they go away without the kids and he keeps mentioning how different she looks, Ritter returns to the house and is stunned when Mangini attacks him and orders him to leave for deserting them. But he stays and ignores phone calls from his in-laws, workmates and medical staff, as the kids make mess wearing animal costumes and King fights a losing battle to keep the place tidy. When Ritter has a meltdown, as he fears he is about to be fired and defines himself by his job, she tries to console him. He explains that they might have to sell the house and their cars and send the kids to public schools and King strives to be kind to him, even though she can't avoid the fact that he has failed her sister. Such is her good nature that even when he forgets her husband's name and complains that he is being punished for being so well endowed, King attempts to see things from his perspective and understands his resistance to letting her parents see Palka because she knows they will be damningly judgemental.

Waking the next morning, Ritter has to calm Sharbino from a panic attack because they are running out of food. He gathers the children and promises they are still a family and that things will work out, even of Palka remains convinced she's a dog. However, Smith fires him because his situation is no longer tenable and he offers a three-month severance package as Ritter pleads on his knees to be allowed to work from home or to hire a nanny or nurse with an advance on his bonus.

On his way home, he buys brightly coloured cuddly toys for the kids to show to Palka in the hope of luring her out of the basement. When the tactic fails, they go for ice cream and Ritter seems to be rebuilding some bridges. But, as they walk back from the shop, he sees Rodriguez waiting for him and Palka smells her perfume when the children open the front door. She begins barking and frenziedly scratching the door, as Ritter pleads with Rodriguez to accept that their affair is over. King arrives as they are talking and she realises why her sister has had a breakdown and she berates Ritter for being such a loser. He begs her not to abandon him now, but they are silenced when Palka bursts out of the basement and goes running along the street on all fours, with the hint of a smile on her face as she savours freedom.

As darkness falls, Ritter and King go searching for Palka and find her exhausted at the side of the road. They bring her home, where hippy uncle Zak Clark is caring for the kids. Ritter reads them a bedtime story and comes down to find King and Clark discussing the court order they have taken out to get custody over Palka. Clark suggests that Palka might have done Ritter a favour by causing him to lose his job and downsize, as he might have suppressed the wild nature she has remembered. But, swigging beer and mocking Clark for his long hair and beard, Ritter fumes at them for their treachery in taking him to court and orders them to leave while vowing to fight to retain control of his family.

Parents Bill Smitrovich and Caroline Aaron join King in a meeting with a family lawyer and ask Ritter to let go without a hearing so they can begin to repair the family. He gets emotional, as he admits he has been an idiot who failed to realise how much he owed to Palka for raising the kids and keeping the household running. Welling up, he recalls that she used to buy her own Christmas presents and that he took the credit to look good in front of his kids. Aaron reassures him that they love him and will let Palka visit when she starts to recover. King promises him that he is not alone and Ritter agrees to letting them take Palka away.

Having cleaned the basement and started to learn how to be a dad, Ritter puts the house on the market. A plumber finds his wedding ring in the pipes just before they move into a smaller apartment, where they all put on animal pyjamas and play a card game together. The Alsatian seems to have followed them and sits with its head inclined on the road outside. After a while, Palka comes to visit and the kids stay with King. She is calm and dressed, but still walking on all fours, as Ritter takes her to a popular dog walking spot. He encourages her to play with her new friends and drops on to his hands and knees to scamper and bark and roll over, as the impassive Palka looks on. The dogs are curious and some come over to nuzzle him, with one even taking a stick out of his mouth. But Palka fails to respond and lolls her head out of the open window as they drive home.

During the night, Palka wakes and wanders into the bathroom. Ritter follows and turns on the shower in case she wants to wash. But she barks and snaps at him before leaping on him and pinning him into a corner as she thrashes at him. She stands on two feet and suddenly seems to realise who she is. But she crumples again and Ritter tells her that he understands that she needs to be who she wants to be and that he will support her, providing she doesn't leave him. He tells her that he loves her and she begins to sob, as she lets him hold her and he swears he has changed. The next morning, Palka wakes and sees Ritter on the pillow beside her and they exchange half smiles as the screen fades to black.

As bleakly dark as satire gets before it becomes horror, this is an unflinchingly bold picture that is bound to spark debate. Many will see this blistering assault on patriarchal arrogance as a Trumpist parable. But, even though the focus falls squarely on Ritter after Palka's transformation, this is as much about the pressure placed on white men to survive the dog-eat-dog world of work in order to provide for their families as it is the misogynist tyranny that many impose on their households in order to sublimate their sense of emasculation. We are not expected to empathise with Ritter, who is a rat of the first water, as he cheats on his wife and takes no interest in the lives of his children. But we are asked to avoid rushing to condemn him, as he prioritises saving face over helping his spouse.

Behind some rather blunt symbolism and the effectively sketched backstory, the plotline and characterisation hardly bear close scrutiny. Why does nobody notice the shattered chandelier and why do Palka's parents stay away when something is quite clearly seriously wrong with their daughter? Doctors, cops and teachers also remain unpersuasively on the periphery, as does the nebulous job that Ritter insists defines him. Palka is evidently lambasting a system that protects privacy rather than people in peril. But, while her rage is justified and the film needs its ugly edge, the premise begins to feel strained because it remains rooted in its own carefully tailored space and not in the real world. Given that he is Palka's ex-partner and her regular co-star, Ritter deserves plenty of credit for playing such a grotesque narcissist with such blithe hissability. Palka's script provides him with plenty of wince-inducing dialogue, with the excruciating school run sequence being the high/low point of his awfulness. The juvenile quartet also impress, with Foster and Maybaum particularly stealing the limelight, while King proves a thoughtful foil to Ritter's boorish brute. The courageous Palka also contributes a devastating display of suppressed pain, as she channels Béatrice Dalle in Claire Denis's Trouble Every Day (2002) while prowling her confined space awaiting the moment to strike.

It will be interesting to see what Scottish First Minister Nicola Sturgeon makes of her prominent thanks in the credits. But Palka also owes a good deal to powerful friends like Elijah Wood, who is credited among the producers, as well as cinematographer Armando Salas, production designer Ryan Brett Puckett, sound editor Jeffrey Alan Jones and composer Morgan Z Whirledge, whose inventively shape-shifting score reinforces the unsettling atmosphere. Palka will make subtler films, but, she will have to go something to produce anything more abrasive, offbeat, fearless or audacious.

On 20 July 2012, James Eagan Holmes walked into the Century 16 cinema in Aurora, Colorado and let off tear gas canisters before opening fire on the audience with an array of firearms. In all, 12 were killed and 70 others were wounded. Exceeding the casualty figures of any other American shooting, the effect that SSRI antidepressants might have had on Holmes's mindset was recently examined in a BBC documentary, A Prescription for Murder. But Tim Sutton takes a different approach to the scenario in Dark Night, which takes its title from the fact that the victims were watching Christopher Nolan's The Dark Knight Rises (2012) when Holmes struck.

As Maica Amata sings in a breathily mournful manner over a darkened screen, there is a cut to Ciara Hampton's eyes. She stares ahead in a Stars and Stripes vest, as the light on her face changes from red to blue and we realise she is sitting on the kerb near a police car. The scene is Sarasota, Florida and, in quick succession, we meet the skinheaded Aaron Purvis being interviewed on the sofa with his mother Marilyn, Iraq veteran Eddie Cassiola and Hampton (his paramedic wife), dog walker Robert Jumper, selfie-taking wannabe actress/model Anna Rose Hopkins, superstore workers Rosie Rodriguez and Karina Macias, and skateboarder Andres Vega, who has dyed his hair orange to match James Holmes, whose trial is being reported on background televisions across the sequence.

When not tending to his snakes and terrapins, Purvis plays video games and imagines coming out of his house to find himself being doorstepped by the paparazzi. Following a trek through Google Street View, we see Vega getting his hair done by two gal pals during a trippy hookah party. Then, a point-of-view shot of someone brandishing a pistol in a video game segues into a scene of Cassiola cleaning and aiming his guns in the kitchen after he returns home from group therapy. As Jumper gets out of his car at a mall complex and counts his steps as he walks across the car park, Rodriguez and Macias shuffle along with their eyes glued to their phones, as they arrive for work on a clothing counter. Nearby, Vega skates along the waterfront with a buddy, as Hopkins arrives for an audition and sits nervously in a waiting-room, while one of her rivals gyrates seductively in a skimpy outfit to music playing in her headphones.

Purvis is asked about school and he claims to have achieved his grades by doing just enough. He claims to have made no connections with his teachers or other students and seems to think that life is about surviving. A girl calls to see Jumper and they have a nervous conversation on the doorstep, as she has previously rejected his advances. He emerges from the house with a rifle and walks purposefully along the street to point the barrel through a window, as the girl is singing `You Are My Sunshine', while giving a guitar lesson.

Cacciola goes to a shooting range and the sound cuts out as he empties his clip into the face of his paper target. In the parking lot, Hopkins is interrupted by three teenage girls screaming needlessly while posing as her own agent during a phone call with a casting director. Back at the skate park, Vega looks on as his tousle-haired friend patches up a cut finger. While Marilyn Purvis extols the virtues of her son the interviewer, Jumper gets milk and cookies from a chic middle-aged woman at a big house in the suburbs and promptly stops his car to throw up into the gutter. He thumps the steering wheel in frustration and goes drinking in subdued red lighting in a bar, while Purvis throws a dart into his bedroom wall while a girl walks across his bed in her underwear and a t-shirt.

Jumper tries on a selection of horror masks in the mirros. He pauses while wearing Batman's hood before an aerial shot hovers over the neighbourhood to another Armata song. Macias joins a group of white girls sunbathing and splashing around in the lake, while Hopkins goes to visit a couple of female cancer survivors. She is allowed to feel the forehead of a woman who lost part of her temple following a brain haemorrhage, but seems more interested in posing for more selfies outside. Driving along at dusk, Purvis listens to a radio news report about a shooting, while his mother frets that she has been so over-protective that she might have ruined a couple of potential romances.

Staring ahead with his blue eyes almost seeming to be in a zombie trance, Jumper shakes his head violently. Hopkins exercises on camera, while Macias takes meticulous care over her eye make-up before kissing her mother goodbye. Hampton opens the door and Cacciola tries to peer round the corner to see who has arrived, while Purvis brandishes a hammer, as he strides across the darkened garden towards his terrapin. However, he returns indoors to work on a sketch of a girl's face, as Hampton applies her lipstick.

Jumper heads for his car with a large canvas bag over his shoulder and tells a neighbour that he's off to a party at the movies. Rodriguez puts on a Catwoman mask, while travelling in the backseat of a car with Macias, while Cacciola and Hampton queues for tickets with their young son and Vega plays on a shooting game in the foyer with his hoodie pulled up. Hopkins sips on her drink, as Rodriguez tells Macias that she looks nice. As the camera slips into the digital projection booth, we see Jumper striding with a fixed jaw towards the multiplex. He enters the auditorium showing the well-publicised Dark Night through a side security door. But the last shot is of a dramatic black-and-blue sky rather than the anticipated bloodbath.

While being a far cry from cinema slaughter fodder like Mark Herrier's Popcorn (1991), Tim Sutton's third feature after Pavilion (2012) and Memphis (2013) can't quite shake the echoes of such school massacre movies as Gus Van Sant's Elephant (2003), Antonio Campos's Afterschool (2008) and Denis Villeneuve's Polytechnique (2009). Often feeling more like a gallery installation than a feature, this is clearly a work of great artistic ambition and technical accomplishment. French cinematographer Hélène Louvart's views of Sarasota are as impeccable as Bart Mangrum and Jami Villers's lived-in interiors and Eli Cohn and Daniel D'Enrico's sound mix, as they help Sutton generate a sense of everyday foreboding that Alfred Hitchcock would have been proud of.

But the droning vocals of Canadian chanteuse Maica Armata tip the balance towards a pseudy kind of exploitation that exposes Sutton's real intentions. He has protested in promoting the picture that this is only tangentially connected to the Aurora incident, but he still litters the action with references that are mostly more oblique than the orange hair being sported by Vega. Similarly, while he fills the frame with phone, computer, video game and television screens, he struggles to convey the reasons for the alienation that they have helped exacerbate among American youth.

One suspects, however, that he is less interested in motive than mood and, consequently, he and editor Jeanne Applegate offer only snippets and impressions of the lives being led by those about to be caught up in a pitiless crime. Thus, there are no characters for the admirable non-professional performers to play, merely ciphers who are put through their paces like their predecessors in a Robert Bresson film. But what most frustrates about this elliptically ambiguous, if formally stylish outing is that its bid to reveal the evil that lingers in the seething discontent that currently pervades America falls flat because Sutton's contrived meld of cod documentary, nonchalant realism and arthouse suspense (complete with several homages to Val Lewton's Cat People bus scare) has failed to evoke any credible sense of a community about to be torn apart.

Britain has a decent track record when it comes to comedy horror. Dating back beyond Walter Forde's The Ghost Train and Marcel Varnel's The Ghost of St Michael's (both 1941), the sub-genre has so successfully relied on poking fun at British phlegm that even overseas directors like Roman Polanski (The Fearless Vampire Killers, 1967) and John Landis (An American Werewolf in London, 1981) have jumped on the bandwagon. Once upon a time, the likes of John Gilling's Mother Riley Meets a Vampire (1952), Pat Jackson's What a Carve Up! (1961) and Gerald Thomas's Carry On Screaming! (1966) would have cropped up regularly in TV schedules, while cult items like Freddie Francis's Mumsy, Nanny, Sonny and Girly (1970) and Ray Cameron's Bloodbath at the House of Death (1983) would have occupied graveyard slots.

Nothing will ever quite match the Vincent Price trio of The Abominable Dr Phibes (Robert Fuest, 1971), Dr Phibes Rides Again (Fuest, 1972) and Theatre of Blood (Douglas Hickox, 1973). But Edgar Wright's Shaun of the Dead (2004) and Ben Wheatley's Sightseers (2012) resuscitated the form and actor Jason Flemyng can take heart from the fact that his directorial debut, Eat Locals, is much worthier of consideration than such recent sub-standard offerings as Phil Clayden's Lesbian Vampire Killers (2009), Jonathan Glendening's Strippers vs Werewolves and Matthias Hoene's Cockneys vs Zombies (both 2012).

Charlie Cox is the first to arrive at a summit meeting taking place in the kitchen of a remote farmhouse. But, as Annette Crosbie, Freema Agyeman, Vincent Regan, Tony Curran and Jordan Long take their place at the table, soldier Johnny Palmiero is being chased through an adjoining wood by an unseen presence. Commander Robert Portal orders him to hold his ground, as they are an important mission that is being co-ordinated by Vatican representative Fr Mackenzie Crook. Meanwhile, at the nearby railway station, Essex likely lad Billy Cook banters with a couple of scallies while waiting for a lift from Eve Myles, who arrives the farmhouse which is now being guarded by the reticent and shade-wearing Lukaz Leong.

In the kitchen, a discussion is heating up about quotas and Regan promises to take up the matter with the European Council. However, testy Scot Curran sees no reason why he shouldn't stray into Cox's territory when he doesn't operate in the same manner as the rest of the group. Crosbie and Agyeman josh Curran for being greedy when he declares that immigrants should be fair game, as no one would notice if they disappeared. But Cox insists that they do vital jobs and that the economy would suffer if open season was declared.

However, Regan has called the meeting to discuss a more pressing problem, as someone has been killing children and he refuses to let such reckless behaviour besmirch the reputation of Britain's vampires or endanger them. He confronts Long with a newspaper headline and Curran tries to defend his friend. But Regan has made up his mind and he orders Long to be staked with a chair leg and his ashes are bagged up and tossed downstairs into the cellar. This swift and brutal punishment coincides with the arrival of Myles and Cook, who has been chosen to replace Long, as his blood is pure even though he's a Romany. Having been hoping for some hanky-panky with Myles, Cook is confused why he is suddenly in the middle of a parish meeting. But, when Crosbie's face reveals her true identity when she sneezes and Cook notices the lack of reflections in the mirror, he realises the severity of his situation.

Angry at Long being dispatched without debate, Curran votes against Cook's inclusion, however, and Regan apologises to that he is going to have to die because all decisions require unanimity. Cook promises to say nothing about what he has witnessed, but the die is cast. He tries to make a cross with kitchen utensils to ward them off and even slashes Myles's cheek. But the wound heals instantly and she scowls at Curran, who finds the whole thing hilarious. Cook attempts to scarper, but he is stopped by Leong and Portal, Palmiero and Crook are astonished to see from their heat-seeking equipment that there are several vampires inside the house.

Shortly after 11pm, Portal orders an attack that spares Cook from being bitten by Aygeman. However, Regan is accidentally staked during the one-sided battle that follows and his ashes follow Long's into the basement. Curran's request about Regan's territory is met with disapproving glares, but coven members realise they are in trouble because Portal plans to keep them confined until dawn does its worst. Deciding to keep Cook as a bargaining chip, Cox ties him to a chair alongside Dexter Fletcher and Ruth Jones, the farming couple who own the house and have been bound and gagged in the freezer room.

As Cilla Black's `Love's Just a Broken Heart' plays on the soundtrack, Crosbie and Leong borrow machine-guns from the dead troopers and lead a rearguard against Portal's reinforcements. Curran sits back sneering as Aygeman and Myles enter the fray before Crook orders the soldiers to stop firing, as they are wasting ammunition. Cox proves the point by removing a bullet from his shoulder, as he explains to Cook that he is a turned human who only feeds on animals. But, as the time ticks on to 1:40am, Portal announces to Crook that he intends taking one of the vampires alive, as he has been in touch with the scientists at the Infinity cosmetics company who need skin and blood samples to discover the secret of eternal youth.

While the vampires plan a mass breakout so that one can double back and slaughter Portal's men unhindered, Cook manages to wriggle free and unties Jones, who is taken to the control point in the woods. As she protests her innocence in the entire affair, Cook opens a fridge to find it full of preserved body parts that the cannibalistic Fletcher insists were there when they moved in. When he hears the gunshot that offs Jones, he pleads with Cook to let him go, as he was simply following his demented spouse's orders. However, he is grateful when Cook puts a bucket on his head and it deflects as bullet, as Portal attempts to capture Curran as he flees on a motorbike, Leong as he kung-fus his way out of the barn and Myles as she shushes a couple of noisy cluckers while hiding in the hen house.

One of the birds gets a roasting after a missile is fired through the door and Cox and Aygeman take shelter in the cellar as Portal closes in for the kill. Crosbie plays the dotty old dear card as she shuffles out of the house on a zimmer frame. But she blows her cover by slotting a swords into the neck of a sympathetic trooper, while Leong perishes to a crossbow bolt. Myles is also captured and tethered to a frame in the field. But Curran makes it back to the farmhouse and Cook mocks his outdated bravado when he boasts of having fought alongside Alexander the Great. Instead, he cites Cy Endfield's Zulu (1964) in suggesting that the vampires try to cut a deal, which is precisely what Palmiero predicts they will do. However, Crook is not quite so savvy and winds up being chained to his own frame after Myles bites his hand when he tries to examine her.

Around 3am, Cox and a hooded warm body wander into the field to powwow with Portal. He is in no mood to listen, however, and captures Cox before shooting his companion. Yet, within seconds of them walking away, they receive a radio report of carnage in the woods and the explanation comes in successive shots of Curran baring his bloodied teeth, a bundle of hot water bottles lying on the grass and Cook emerging from a chest freezer. But, with the time moving on to 5:30am, Portal is beginning to lose patience. Thus, he has Crook and Myles staked, with the latter vanishing into a ball of flame to Cox's dismay.

Meanwhile, Cook helps himself to Curran's discarded suit and slips past Palmiero in the woods before he is butchered by the cackling Fletcher. He is dispatched by Aygeman, just as Curran releases Cox and he breaks the habit of an undead lifetime by biting Portal. They are picked up by Cook and Aygeman in an army truck and they drive off into the sunrise (at first) before a trio of white-coated beauticians arrive to take their samples from the rabid Portal and the picture ends on a commercial for Jeunes rejuvenation cream.

Despite ending on one of the few ill-judged japes in a pleasingly knowing parody (another would be the flaming flying chicken), Flemyng and writer Danny King can congratulate themselves on a job well done. The gags about Brexit, paedophiles and anti-ageing creams don't exactly make this a satire, even when Fletcher (whose character is called Thatcher) gets to deliver a line about Mrs Thatcher being to blame for everything. But there are plenty of wisecracks to go round, while few will forget the sight of Annette Crosby wielding a submachine gun like the one she has at home. Indeed, the cast consistently wins the audience over to what are essentially ciphers with fangs. But, while the more familiar faces enjoy themselves, Billy Cook seizes the opportunity to emerge from the shadow of his famous father, David Essex, whose 1973 hit `Hold Me Close' is splendidly employed over the closing scene.

On the technical side, cinematographer Chas Bain and production designer Russell de Rozario establish neat contrasts between the dim interiors and the moonlit woods, while James Seymour Brett's score is consistently catchy. Calling the shots for the first time, veteran actor Flemyng makes intelligent and laudably unflashy use of the camera. He may not entirely explain the significance of the fox prowling around the vicinity, but he resists the temptation to compose his action sequences from diced shakicam segments and keeps the sound (Paul Carter), visual (David Payne and Thierry Nguyen) and make-up effects (Sangeet Prabhaker) satisfyingly simple. Indeed, one is left with a keenish sense of anticipation for Eat Global, which is promised at the end of a credit crawl that includes a fond nod to Dad's Army. The good one, not Oliver Parker's execrable remake, whose sole saving grace was also provided by Annette Crosbie in tandem with the ever-excellent Julia Foster.