Dead In A Week (Or Your Money Back) (15)

It's easy to forget, but every now and then this great nation of ours — when it isn't busy throwing itself off the cliff of reason and logic — can produce some fine, fine films.

Sure, we all know Richard Curtis knows his way around a script and a camera, but below him there are some fine pieces of film making going on.

Not that you ever get to hear about them, mind.

Take, for example, the oddly titled Dead In A Week (Or Your Money Back).

No trailers (we may have mentioned this here), and a description on the Odeon's app claiming it's a "drama" (it so isn't), but as it was this or Depp hamming it up in pre-Potter world, off we trotted.

And in a mere 90 minutes we had more fun and laughs than has been the case in the cinema for some time (and we say this knowing we've seen some very good films lately).

Turns out, all you need is a good cast and a good script. The rest takes care of itself.

In the case of Dead, the cast features young up-and-comers Christopher Eccleston and Tom Wilkinson, alongside rising stars Aneurin Barnard (off of Dunkirk) and Freya Mavor.

The story is a simple one. Aspiring author William (Barnard) has realised he can't even succeed at suicide and so out-sources the whole messy business to hitman Leslie (Wilkinson).

Unfortunately, no soon is the contract signed William finds a beautiful women who wants to publish his book (Mavor).

This causes Leslie some major problems, not least of which being his impending retirement if he doesn't hit his quota. And his boss Harvey (Eccleston) is not a forgiving man.

What follows is a sweet, dark comedy about staying alive while the grim reaper haunts your every step.

Which, we'll freely admit, doesn't sound like much.

And yet, thanks to the wonderfully crisp, sharp script from writer/director Tom Edmunds, the exquisite chemistry between Barnard and Mavor, the underplayed electricity between Wilkinson and Eccleston, what you have here is one of the best films you'll see this year.

Everything is played with a straight bat (no Pegg-esque over-egging of puddings here), the comic lines arrive with perfect timing ("they didn't even see the piano falling), and there's a central romance that British cinema just does better than anyone else.

There are also some quite delightful moments where you can't quite tell where Edmunds is taking us.

But possibly the best thing about Dead In A Week is the fact there is absolutely no flab on this film.

Coming in at a nudge over 90 minutes, there isn't a single line or scene you'd want cut to chivvy things along — and it's been sometime since that was the case.

Even with recent faves like Widows or Bohemian Rhapsody you knew a shorter running time wouldn't have hurt the final cut — but not here.

Everything is here for a reason, every line is needed, every look and glance plays its part, and you are left with a film that is simply a joy to watch.

Of course there will be those who tell you suicide is no laughing matter, but in the right hands anything can be the subject of comedy.

And Edmunds is very clearly those hands.

We can't remember the last time we laughed consistently throughout a movie — often struggling to keep an eye on the screen thanks to being doubled-up with laughter.

But Dead In A Week keeps you laughing and smiling from beginning to end.

We imagine it'll be a bugger to find, but this film will reward your efforts with the kind of warm glow only a film about death can give you.