For all our pretensions, British film is in a sorry state and has been for some time. Christopher Lee noted that the last British film-studio to be guaranteed distribution in the US was Hammer Studios, and that was in the 1970s. Not that we aren’t capable of making good films, but if the measure of a nation’s culture can be based upon its cinematic successes, then an outsider would be forgiven for thinking that England is populated solely by working-class northerners who either strip part-time or form strange affinities with Kestrels.

But just sometimes that certain magic happens when something of pure, undisputed quality appears. One such occasion occurred way back in the heady days of 1987, with Bruce Robinson’s shamelessly autobiographical film, “Withnail & I”. Starring Richard E. Grant (“How to Get Ahead in Advertising”, “Jack & Sarah”) and Paul McGann (“Paper Mask”, “Alien 3”), the story is deceptively simple: the year is 1969. Two out-of-work actors attempt to escape alcoholism and failing careers by escaping for a weekend in the country. Along the way they must negotiate a randy bull, Withnail’s lecherously-eccentric Uncle Monty (Richard Griffiths) and a rather dubious poacher named “Jake”, played by Michael Elphick. Hardly the most complex of ideas, but therein lies the film’s beauty.

Mary Selway’s casting is utterly unparalleled, Grant and McGann stealing the show with two of the strongest characterisations ever to grace a cinematic experience. In his brief to Grant regarding on how to play Withnail, Robinson’s description of the character was of “a lying, mendacious, cowardly, prancing, posing, utterly charming old darling”. Grant admits that he did wonder how on earth he would fit all that into one line, but, somehow, he did! Small surprise that this was the film that launched his continuing career, although it is questionable whether he would have been as effective without the talents of Paul McGann to complement him. McGann plays the deliciously paranoiac “I”, apparently Robinson’s ambiguous self-portrait, the character’s fear-induced common sense the perfect foil to Withnail’s nihilistic over-indulgence. The chemistry between these two actors is absolutely amazing, containing that certain “je ne sais quoi” that both actors and directors alike dream about. Seeing as both Grant and McGann were hired and fired on a regular basis at the start, it’s with a sigh of relief that we can safely say that Robinson definitely made the right choice.

The supporting cast is also immensely strong, with Richard Griffiths’ deplorable “Uncle Monty” and Ralph Brown as the acid-casualty “Danny” adding the veritable icing to the cake. Together they bring the bizarre oppositions of England in 1969 to life- Monty being a depiction of the decaying “old guard” and Danny the haggard visage of sixties drug culture at the end of a decade that shook the world. And, as Danny himself points out, “there are going to be a lot of casualties”. This insight into the complexities of British culture, complexities that have relevance to 1969, 1987 and, without doubt, to 2003, is what makes this film unquestionably “homemade” and unquestionably timeless.

Both Bruce Robinson’s scripting and direction are amongst the best that England has ever had to offer. Some of the lines from “Withnail” have entered into a mythology of their own. Just sit near a group of students at closing time and you’re bound to get a couple of them come up at some point (don’t stay too long though, it gets very irritating VERY quickly). One of my favourites has to be when Withnail, in desperate need of alcohol, drinks a can of lighter fluid. He then tries to bully “I” into giving him the can of anti-freeze out of his toolbox, who desperately tries to dissuade him by saying “You bloody fool! You should never mix your drinks!” What makes this all the funnier is that, in reality, Grant is teetotal (Robinson had to get him drunk, just so he knew what the experience was like- with rather vomit stained consequences!) I’m not anal enough to go through all my favourite moments, suffice to say that there are many of them. How the film succeeds in being so continually funny is quite beyond me. Even Robinson, who has frequently commented on how strange he finds the amount of interest taken in his film, admits that the script was good. Respect shown where respect is due!

Perhaps as in homage to the dying art of stage performance embodied in the characterisations, the film is shot in a very basic, almost theatrical fashion. There is absolutely nothing fancy about it. In some places it is almost shoddy, the framing often off-centre and by no means smooth during the tracking shots. But this only adds to the tragic-comedy of the film. Anything more would have stolen from the film’s incessant beatnik ambience. So many “respectable” directors have tried their hand at this and resoundingly failed due to an irreconcilable gulf between themselves and the reality that they are trying to depict. “Write what you know” is the buzzword of writers everywhere, and it certainly rings true. Why else would you call yourself “Hand Made Films”?

What works for me about “Withnail & I” is the mixture of sadness and laughter that congeals into a divine state of gentle melancholy. I think the film’s popularity rests upon its ability to “talk” to so many people’s experiences of life. The sun-kissed world of brazen beauties, big muscles and giant houses that Hollywood unrepentantly churns off its wheel of industry just isn’t relevant to most of the world. This is a film about broken dreams, frustrated desires and the sheer ardour that keeps us living for tomorrow. It’s not the way that one should be thinking according to pop-psychologists, but what good does denial do? I know my life is far more Withnail than it is Tom Cruise (probably with a dose of “Forrest Gump” thrown in too…)

The film is available on both DVD and video. If you’re like me, you’ll have both, just in case one breaks. But I would recommend the DVD if you’re a first-time buyer- the inclusion of “Withnail & Us”, a superb documentary about the making the film, is worth the few extra quid alone.

If there is a disadvantage to “Withnail & I”, it’s that it has not set a standard for British filmmakers. If any thing, it reveals most of what we’ve turned out in recent years to be the inadequate test-reel it is. A personal gripe perhaps, but one that’s not easy to dispute. Otherwise, I’d say be careful because this film makes the descent into total dysfunctionalism seem so damn appealing that you’ll be rubbing your self in Deep Heat, donning a dirty coat and heading off to the country with a case of vintage chardonnay in no time!