Filth is ghastly and unpleasant, but also kind of brilliant, and therein lies both the reward and the rub.

To its detriment, Filth too often pulls its punches, and if you're striving for pitch black, that is most definitely a cardinal sin.

"Filth" lives up to its title and then some, but a no-holds performance by James McAvoy is reason enough to watch.

Jon S. Baird's manic adaptation of Irvine Welsh's novel maintains a constant high for much of its 97 head-spinning minutes before it sets up into a confrontation between a broken man and his personal demons.