The majority of the reviews for Bright Young Things have spent an inordinate amount of column inches telling us that Stephen Fry’s version is much sweeter and more generous than Evelyn Waugh’s source novel. Well duh. One is called Bright Young Things, one is called Vile Bodies, you don’t have to be a brainbox of Fry’s proportions to notice a shift in emphasis. It also really does not matter. The number of people who might be turned off because it does not quite match Waugh’s dripping satirical outlook is about the same number of people who went to see The Girl From Brazil (recent Hugh Laurie movie).

It looks great by the way, all swirling cameras and pounding jazz. Because these middle class fops were so decadent, with their loud all night parties and their drug taking the “just like the noughties” comparison is left begging and is a cheap and pretty worthless jump. The most interesting parallel might be that the direction suggests that because of their very decadence, these people were given World War 2 as punishment. This is a bit of a leap of faith, and the idea that we were sent 9/11 or Gulf War 2 as punishment does not work at all. The contortions to get a relatively happy ending for these rather unpleasant characters do seem a little bit overworked too, like a farce that has forgotten that it is also supposed to be funny. Having sold you’re fiancee once, you don’t make things any better by buying her back – she has still been treated as a commodity.

The lasting effect of Bright Young Things is one of an entertaining spectacle that nevertheless falls flat. This may again be due to its source material. The Stephen Fry connection does not help, the only other period drama that I can compare it with that celebrates this social scene is that from PG Woodehouse. And in comparison with Jeeves And Wooster, Fry’s Waugh comes across as Woodehouse without the gags.

It is good fun to though see The Deal’s Tony Blair play the fruitiest of gay characters against the actor who recently played Jeffery Archer in that true story. And that people called Fenella will always be posh.