Famed for his dry wit and sarcastic edge, British author Evelyn Waugh lambasted the beautiful people of pre-WWII London in his novel "Vile Bodies," "taking the lid off" the scandalous party-goers that rocked stuffy British society with their irreverence and flippant use of drugs and alcohol.

"Bright Young Things" transfers Waugh’s bite to the screen but even in the capable hands of veteran actor Stephen Fry ("Gosford Park," "Wilde"), who marks his directorial debut here as well as penning the screenplay, the tone is confusing to anyone not familiar with Waugh. The leap from Peter O’Toole’s hilarity to a depressed columnist committing suicide might seem ludicrous to those unaccustomed to the author’s wicked world view. But those who know what to expect—a hybrid of Noel Coward and Oscar Wilde with a dash of horseradish- will find this film uniquely amusing in that reserved "extraordinary" British style.

The story is ridiculously simple in the boy wins girl /loses girl /wins girl again vein. Would-be author Adam Symes loses the sole copy of his first novel to an over-zealous customs agent. Left penniless, he finds his marital chances diminishing and his fiancé about to wed another more accomplished gentleman. Through a series of outrageous strokes of luck, Adam wins a fortune betting on a long shot horse race but runs into countless snags trying to collect his winnings from a drunken major who had placed the original bet on his behalf. In the meantime, he writes a gossipy column, "The Chatterbox" to earn a meager living and repay his outraged publisher.

The young cast is outstanding here but ironically it is not the "Bright Young Things" who make this film a delight but the "old shoes." Peter O’Toole steals the show during his few minutes onscreen as Nina’s dotty father who signs checks "Charlie Chaplin" or "Greta Garbo." Dan Aykroyd is perfect as the booming Lord Monomark, publisher of the London rag, naughtily named "The Daily Excess." Jim Broadbent, with his pliable fleshy face and on-target physicality, gives the Major an unforgettable drunken demeanor. Stockard Channing’s fire-and-brimstone choir leader (the girls’ uniforms are angel wings) makes an indelible impression, the eerily harsh lighting magnifying her garish makeup as she admonishes the party-goers. Even 95 year-old Sir John Mills, who never utters word of dialogue, wrangles an audience chuckle as he snorts cocaine at an out-of-control bash. Indeed, these veterans get little screen time but their presence escalates the laughter.

Beneath the scenes of silliness and verbal sparring, under the ironic humor and overblown lifestyle, the themes of emptiness and a life unfulfilled seep through. As vapid as some of these "Bright Young Things" come across, a glimmer of hope—however trite and unrealistic it may seem¾ finalizes the story as Nina and Adam settle down to family life with their son. Nina’s immature flightiness, however, bring to mind the worrisome vision of the entire family boogie-ing the night away at the club "Inferno." Extraordinary, indeed.