TAMARA DREWE (15, 111 mins)***
Starring Gemma Arterton, Luke Evans, Dominic Cooper, Roger Allam, Tamsin Greig, Bill Camp, Jessica Barden, Charlotte Christie

A new life in the country is a messy business in this rollicking comedy, based on Posy Simmonds’s graphic novel.

Shot on location in Dorset during an unseasonal hot spell last October, Tamara Drewe chronicles one turbulent year in the life of a young woman struggling to come to terms with the death of her mother.

The people she touches during the grieving process also undergo transformations, gaining the strength to make tough decisions about their personal relationships or pursue deep-rooted obsessions to their catastrophic conclusion.

Gemma Arterton is perfectly cast as London newspaper journalist Tamara, who returns to the cosy village of Ewedown to sell her late mother’s cottage.

Blessed with a cosmetically-sculpted new nose and a sense of style that sets her apart from her wellington boot-clad neighbours, Tamara turns heads of the menfolk.

She hires childhood sweetheart and handyman Andy Cobb (Evans), to oversee repairs while encouraging lustful glances from celebrated thriller writer and serial philanderer Nicholas Hardiment (Allam), who treats his wife Beth (Greig) like a skivvy and is ill-suited to the rural setting.

“I don’t like cows. They exude bovine malice,” he complains.

Tempers flare when Tamara begins dating Ben Sergeant (Cooper), drummer and driving force behind rock band Swipe.

In particular, schoolgirls Jody (Barden) and Casey (Christie), who are obsessive fans of Ben, harbour dreams of stealing the rock God away from Tamara, and they will stoop to any depths.

Meanwhile, Beth enjoys compliments from American scholar Glen (Camp), who cannot disguise his admiration for everything that she does, gushing excitedly, “If it were possible to have an orgasm from food, these mince pies would do it!”

Bookmarked into four chapters representing the changing seasons, Tamara Drewe puts a joyful and sometimes darkly humorous spin on Thomas Hardy’s Far From The Madding Crowd, with Arterton’s sexy heroine invariably at the centre of the bed-hopping and intrigue.

Allam’s adulterer elicits pantomime boos with every act of treachery, and Greig tugs the heartstrings with a tour de force performance as a downtrodden cuckold, who notices her husband’s natural glow after one liaison and innocently chirps, “You’re buzzing like my electric toothbrush just after I’ve changed the batteries.”

But the double-act of potty-mouthed youngsters Barden and Christie pickpocket all the best exchanges.