I have to admit that I don't know how "Festival" ended. I gave up on it after just over half an hour. My wife gave up on it during the opening credits, which are accompanied by the most grating music ever used in cinema. Imagine the baying of a brazen pack of hell-hounds and up the volume to 11. You're still not even close to how nasty it sounds.

Writer/director Annie Griffin is responsible for one of my favourite TV series, "The Book Group", a funny and often moving tale of an odd bunch of literary fans, also set in Edinburgh. Unfortunately, she's dropped the ball pretty badly with "Festival". Concentrating on a 3rd series of "The Book Group" would have been a much better idea, Annie.

Despite a talented cast (including many fine comic actors) the film falls into a ditch thanks to the clichéd script and stereotypical characters. Having been introduced to The Unlikeable Star, The Feisty Journalist, The Rude and Unhelpful Stage Manager, The Uptight PA, The Insecure Comedian and a host of similar mini-grotesques, I found that I had no interest in what happened to any of them. 'What is the point of watching people who are either deeply unsympathetic or as wet as a water meadow if you're not being paid to do so?' I asked myself. When I also realised that I hadn't laughed once in 30 minutes, I concluded that it was time to turn the TV off.

Nasty lottery-funded rubbish. If you watch this all the way through and hate it, don't say that I didn't warn you.