Quotes of the Day

Nicole Kidman, Renee Zellweger, Russell Crowe and a host of other A-listers were working the red carpet in London's West End, waving to fans, chatting with the press — and dragging a trail through an inch of white foam. Torrential rain had reacted with a fire-retardant chemical in the carpet, making it froth up like bubble bath. As countless pairs of Jimmy Choos were ruined, their owners could only turn for the camera and smile.

A surreal moment for the visiting Hollywood élite, and an embarrassing one for the British Academy of Film and Television Arts (bafta) hosting its annual version of the Oscars back in February 2002. But the gaffe was also sort of charming, a reminder of what distinguishes the British film industry from its bigger, glossier American counterpart. These days, though, the Orange British Academy Film Awards, known as the baftas, want to be taken seriously. This year's ceremony marks the awards' 60th anniversary and the academy is determined that the evening's only bubbles will come from the champagne. For the first time, the red carpet will be partially covered and will lead not to a movie theater or hotel, where the baftas used to be held, but to the Royal Opera House. On Feb. 11, people will watch an awards ceremony that really does look and act a lot like the Oscars. "The red carpet is huge and the stage will be much more dramatic," says Amanda Berry, bafta ceo.

The makeover is just one part of the British film industry's new self-esteem boost. Last year, a near record amount of money was spent on making movies in Britain. And after British talent came home weighed down with Golden Globes last month, it's a good bet the same will happen at the Oscars on Feb. 25. This kind of success can get people overexcited, thinking that maybe — just maybe — this is the year that Britain will finally step out of Hollywood's shadow. But it will never happen. Britain's industry is far too small to compete with the U.S. entertainment behemoth. And that's probably the best thing about it.

Britain's been here before, most famously in 1982, when Chariots of Fire picked up four Academy Awards including Best Picture, and screenwriter Colin Welland accepted his Oscar with the cry, "The British are coming!" Few British films have done that well since — but, then, it's getting harder to define a British film. According to the Treasury, Britain's Finance Ministry, a film is considered British if it fulfills a certain number of cultural points: one point if the director is a British citizen, two if over 50% is shot in Britain, and so on. What's a little easier to spot is that certain quality that's unique to British filmmaking. "Successful British films have always been culturally specific in some way, but are completely universal in the way they tell their stories," says Colin Vaines, executive vice president of European production and development for U.S. studio the Weinstein Co.

bafta and Oscar best film nominee The Queen is a prime example of how to make an utterly British story resonate for filmgoers all over the world. But Paul Greengrass's best directing Oscar nomination for United 93 shows how a British perspective can also work for a very American event. Both films were made with a mix of British and U.S. funding, but both directors know how to get the best stories out of the smallest budgets. "In Britain, you don't necessarily have $50 million to throw at a movie, so you need to come up with something that works on a deeper, more emotional level," says Vaines. "That means you have to be smarter, more moving, funnier. It challenges you more as a filmmaker."

And as a storyteller. Several of the films up for best screenplay at the Oscars were written by Brits, including The Queen (Peter Morgan) and Notes on a Scandal (Patrick Marber). "The quality of really good British writing has been a tradition for decades," says Vaines. "British screenwriters have a facility with words, a theatricality, but they also understand the way film works as a medium." In the Hollywood power scale, most screenwriters rank just below the guy who buys the bagels, and a finished script is never really finished until the director, the producers and, often, other writers have had their say. But the Oscar-nominated British writers all have long histories with the people they work with, stemming from careers that started in television and the theater. "In British film, there's a very equal and strong relationship between producers, directors and screenwriters," says Richard Curtis, writer of quintessentially British comedies like Notting Hill and Love Actually. "So nobody would ever say to Marber, 'We don't much like what you've done here, let's bring in Tom Stoppard to write a couple of gags.' It's unthinkable that the solution to a problem would be found outside the relationship."

British screenwriters aren't the only ones who are good with words. In front of the camera, Britain's leading sirs and reigning dames are known for their cool, clipped precision. Peter O'Toole, Judi Dench and Helen Mirren all have bafta and Oscar nominations this year, and, despite their ability to change accents and appearance, everything they say or do is wrapped in an irrepressible Britishness.

But there is a new generation of Brit actors whose appeal has nothing to do with their nationality. Kate Winslet is on both the bafta and Oscar shortlists, and Daniel Craig's Bond is the first 007 to ever earn a bafta nod. While their elders are known for their controlled performances, younger Brits are more raw and unrefined. And that's thanks to Hollywood. "Actors of my generation all look to Americans as the inventors of modern cinema acting technique," says Toby Jones, a British actor who plays American literary icon Truman Capote in Infamous — a role that both Sean Penn and Johnny Depp read for. "It's more naturalistic. We've always looked to Americans as the people who've minted that style."

It's this symbiosis that helps keep British cinema flourishing and U.S. cinema interesting. Sometimes, the relationship turns parasitic and British talent gets sucked into the Hollywood machine, never to return home. But most of the time, there's give and take. The U.S. system gives some funding or a distribution deal, and, in return, it gets a good story. Kevin Macdonald's portrait of Ugandan dictator Idi Amin The Last King of Scotland was made with mostly British funding, giving him the freedom to make his movie his way. "If I tried to do The Last King of Scotland through the U.S. studio system, it would be a very different film, if it had ever been made at all," he says. "Because it would have had to cost a certain amount of money, which would have meant it would have had to cast certain stars and a script that didn't offend too many people and wasn't too violent … The whole thing would have gone in circles."

But The Last King of Scotland was distributed through a Hollywood studio, which gave it a bigger audience than any British studio could. The film now has one Oscar nomination for its star Forest Whitaker and five bafta nominations. As Macdonald knows, it's the Oscar that will stick. He won an Academy Award in 2000 for his documentary on the Munich Olympics, One Day in September, and a bafta four years later for Touching the Void. "Winning a bafta is like winning a literary award," he says. "You're happy, your friends phone you up, and a week later everyone's forgotten about it. But even now, whenever my name appears in any U.S. publication, it's prefaced with 'Oscar-winning documentary maker … ' In Britain, you get knighted. In the U.S., you get an Oscar. It's a title which you will thenceforth carry with you forever."

But what bafta lacks in clout, it makes up for in camaraderie. With specific categories for British Film of the Year and best first feature by a British director, producer or screenwriter, the baftas look out for their own, giving more British filmmakers the chance to win a bronze mask. For many, it's the next best thing to bringing home a little gold man. "It's important to have awards that show British filmmakers how much their films resonate with British audiences," says Macdonald. "To have them say, 'This film, from our perspective, feels great. We love this.' Personally, I think the baftas should become an even more proudly British event." But first, bring back the foam.

• JUMANA FAROUKY
• Predictions that Britain could rival Hollywood are nothing but celluloid dreams. But the British film industry does have one strength — it's small