Based on the Irvine Welsh (Trainspotting) novel of the same name, 2013's Filth see a madcap James McAvoy tearing around Edinburgh as a corrupt detective with a borderline personality disorder. With a penchant for drugs, alcohol, and sexually abusive relationships, McAvoy's Bruce is a walking depravity, and most of the fun in Filth comes from watching him and his cohorts (inc. Jamie Bell) debase themselves. A sickly black comedy, Filth is also draped in bleak despair, and the film's finale is deeply sad and uncomfortable. Putting in arguably his best performance (it's a toss-up between this and Atonement, though obviously the roles are completely different) this is McAvoy's film through and through, the actor having some serious fun with the material until it's time to get dark with it, too. Backed up by an excellent supporting cast of UK talent (Imogen Poots, Eddie Marsan, Jim Broadbent), the film is hindered only slightly by the Jim Broadbent sections (through no fault of his own, mind), which are lifted too literally from the source.
