I really wanted to like this film for a couple of reasons 1. Annie Griifin did a fine job with the Book Club and 2. It's British. Sadly neither reason proved strong enough for me to be able to overlook Festival's many flaws. <br /><br />I can only guess that Griffin's original aim was to write a movie where comedy and tragedy were so closely linked that it was difficult to see where one ended and the other began and what better backdrop that the Edinburgh Festival which every year attracts acts from all four corners of the world, who come to entertain and supposedly change their lives? Definitely a strong starting point for a funny, touching and thought provoking movie, unfortunately this ain't it. <br /><br />For one thing we are asked to focus on far too many characters, assorted comics, bizarre actors and various hangers on who each have a story to tell but no time in which to tell it. As a result they never become anything other than one dimensional characters and unpleasant ones at that. Who is Faith, the actress behind the one woman show about Dorothy Wordsworth? Why has she chosen to do this? Why has she brought it to Edinburgh, what is she hoping to achieve? We never find out. Is Brother Mark a real priest. Why does Petra put up with Sean? Is she in love with his or just too apathetic to do anything else with her life? What's with the Canadian trio whose show touches the audience but who are presented to us as buffoons. And what about the depressed mother who abandons her child in what is presented to us as some sort of happy and romantic love story. Ditto the Perrier Awards which seem to be tacked on as an afterthought or just an excuse to introduce a bunch of stereotypical arty journalists spewing line upon line of bitchy clichés. Lots of questions but no answers and as a result the film added up to little more than an unholy mess. <br /><br />And then the sex scenes. One commentator actually applauded these graphic and let's be honest gratuitous scenes decalring them to be "real" Well maybe he has been fisted many times on the floor of a puppet shop by a bald punk, I would hazard a guess and say that many of us have not. Guess that means movies like 'Deepthroat' should be regarded as social documentaries rather than porno junk. <br /><br />I could go on to talk about the nonsensical punch up at the end but what would be the point? Suffice it to say that if this is the way that the UK Film Council is spending it's money then it's no wonder British film industry is in such dire straits.