'Better Things' is Duane Hopkins bleak but brilliant directorial debut set in rural Britain. It tells a series of stories against a backdrop of a countryside that, far from idyllic, has become a wash with drugs, death, intrigue and teenage angst. Shot beautifully any single frame from the first ten minute sequence could be a photograph in an exhibition, as too could certain shots right the way through this movie. Cold and almost bleached out you can really feel the grey and the pain as we get snapshots of peoples lives, people affected by death, drug abuse, isolation, frustration, its not the easiest watch but like last years 'Hunger' it deals with dark subject matter and turns it into a thing of random beauty. Hopkins draws from his cast of first timers a sense of the real like we are privy to their lives and watching a documentary of sorts. But it's in the spaces in-between where the films real strength lie giving the viewer only part of the story and leaving the feverish mind to fill in the gaps. Take for example the old couple, she asks her husband at one point if he will forgive her but you never find out what for, it is probably not as bad as you think it is or maybe its worse. These spaces are like the gaps between verses and choruses in songs, places to let the piece breathe and ultimately they are essential to the overall film. Like peeking through the curtains at the seedy underbelly of Britain 'Better Things' wont be to everybody's taste but anyone who likes a well paced and superbly shot meditation should check it out, a great first film that should see Hopkins move onto bigger and better things.

When you were little, did you ever hide under the bedclothes? Pretend everything outside doesn't exist? And as a teenager. Hide your head in a pillow - after the broken love affair? And now?

Duane Hopkins' first feature is bleak yet intellectually satisfying. Bookended with nothingness. Is that emptiness – and the spaces in-between – are they brought on by loss? Or is it a basic condition?

Better Things uses narrative arcs but strips away story lines to make us examine such questions. Producing serious dramatic tension with such a bare palette is a remarkable achievement. Take Gail. She has agoraphobia. It keeps her indoors. Escaping within romantic fiction. Nan shares the same house. A world away. Mostly bedbound. Can their communication ever be more than, "a nice cup of tea?" Or Mr and Mrs Gladwin. Together for 60 years. Much of it unspoken. Or teenagers filling a sense of isolation with hard drugs. Maybe dying. More loss. A bridge no longer crossable. Tess, dead in the opening scene. A needle still stuck in her arm. Lost souls on a sea of oblivion. Each crying out with the tiniest of lights, the tiniest capacity for love. A still breath in the vacuum.

No trite 'love is the answer' will catapult this film to fulfil any needs for feelgood fantasy. Surprising perhaps, when love is very central to the film. Says its director, "It is of course what all of them are looking for, it is what they want and need, as we all do. But it is more complex than just finding it and receiving it, it is about whether you can accept it. Either because it seems impure or compromised from this person or you feel not deserving of it yourself. The emotion has a huge value to them but it does not mean that it can solve everything for them. It is not just love that they crave; it is security, safety, and validation of their own worth. They need to feel that they have a greater responsibility."

A penetratingly realistic approach, combined with avant-garde technique in composition and structure, gives Better Things its weakness and strength. I cannot imagine it satisfying mainstream audiences, even before we come up against graphic drug use (and some of the actors are former users). I was feeling ready to dismiss it. But then it comes together so coherently. Hopkins is no dilettante parading style over substance. He picks a complex, abstract idea as his theme. He obsesses (in a good way) about theme over story. More mainstream film-making would parade its 'themes' yet coyly duck real concerns.

In that great film, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, for instance, a 'theme' of 'being trapped' is approached by comparing a quadriplegic, a Beirut hostage, and an old man with problems navigating stairs. We could feel some artistic elation at perceiving the 'underlying message'. But in fact the audience was free to ignore such subtlety by concentrating on life-stories, beautiful photography, and enjoyable emotions overcoming extreme adversity. Such niceties play to the desire to be entertained without recognising the mundane misery of being trapped - much less the possibility of better things for most mortals.

"I'm interested in what the story represents," says Hopkins. "The more story you remove, the more theme is left because the audience has to work harder." And the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. As long as the director isn't being deliberately obscure (and this one isn't),there's a sense of achievement and understanding which is a pay-off for the effort. Individual characters have limited relevance to our own lives. But the theme is usually more universal. By working on it we also make it something we own. And if Hopkins can go on to 'even better things still', then theatregoers may be treated to his examination of other deep issues. Will this bold approach take wings like Godard or will Hopkins remain welded to rural grunge?

Regarding the structure of the film, he says, "The drama in Better Things comes from a gradual build up of scenes that relate to, and complement each other thematically and build an impression of an area, it's inhabitants and their individual stories through these sequences." As a setting, it also becomes the unifying element, where lives are probably shared even if not in the narrative. Better Things is set in the Cotswolds. This 'Green and Pleasant Land'. The England most city-dwellers romanticise. The England where country-dwellers increasingly find themselves marginalised.

Isolation is cleverly emphasised with neat stylistic touches. An almost total absence of panning and tracking shots gives the impression of a gulf between each mise-en-scene. There is a lack of camera movement, just as subjects find it hard to move towards each other, physically and emotionally. The stillness, the inability to move forward, seems to overpower everything else. And, when two boys are driving in a fast car, the soundtrack suddenly blots out the loud engine sound, leaving only their words and inner reality. An inner reality perhaps plunging headlong to the abyss.

I am neither a celebrity or a drug addict. Probably like you, I try to find better things. Maybe it's in the simple joyous laughter of a friend as we share a glass of crisp wine. Birdsong outside my door reminding me of the countryside. The rustle of wind in the trees somehow recharging my batteries. Or the warm smile and embrace of a lover. Even if the affair is only desultory. We long for better things. And the empty space in which they are found remains a mystery. Someone asks, do I use films as an escape? If I do, creative films of this calibre risk giving Britain a good name.

I found this film was more about love than drugs and depression. She say's 'why did she think falling in love would make things better' etc etc. When someone dies and you know you could have stopped or hindered them except that you would have done the same in their circumstances 'it hurts' it's the nature of love to understand yet still grieve. The film has old people in it, any one else notice that? He loves her even though she cheated on him, he can't escape because he loves her, yet his love for her rips him to shreds, all he wants is to be with her, to have what he thought they always had. the guy who overdoses is suffering the same pain, he wants what they had always had before she died, no matter how awful it was, at least they had something. Old and young, we just want what we had before it turned sour. Nothing to do with drugs or adultery just people wanting what they perceived as good. Well done, I loved the film.