Filth (Jon S. Baird, 2013)

Cinematic adaptations of Irvine Welsh's work have assumed a number of standard devices ever since Trainspotting, and Filth runs through the whole lot of them with glee. There are numerous infringements of the fourth wall, hallucinatory sequences and sardonic voice-overs. This could all easily become very cloying, were it not for James McAvoy turning out perhaps the best performance of his career as the bent copper Bruce Robertson, seeking to land colleagues and acquaintances alike in the shit as he chases a promotion and drinks himself into degradation, increasingly frantic and delusional in his conviction that he can get away with anything. It's painful to watch and yet also engaging, working beyond the level of black comedy with some truly moving moments as the anti-hero struggles to deny feeling for any of the people around him in the grip of his numerous issues.

7/10