TEA at four. Dinner at eight. Silent murder at midnight. How civilised on the surface and yet, underneath, the British social hierarchy is on the cusp of change between the wars.

The year is 1932 and at an elegant English country house, upstairs and downstairs are going about their business, everything in its orderly place, at least outwardly at a time when appearance was all.

Guests are assembling at Gosford Park, home to Sir William McCordle (Michael Gambon), for a shooting party and the chance for family members to ingratiate themselves with their brash host. Below stairs, their maids and valets work in tandem with the house staff, a subterranean world with its own strict hierarchy.

Above and below, divisions blur and the long-established equilibrium is knocked off balance amid revelations of illicit sexual liaisons and dubious business dealings. Petty rivalries boil over and long-dormant secrets are re-awakened, and as resentments swell, so Sir William is murdered.

What began as an English comedy of manners with the wit of Oscar Wilde has become a delicious pastiche of an Agatha Christie country-house murder mystery.

First surprise is that Gosford Park is not an adaptation of a dusty old novel but a new screenplay by Julian Fellowes, from an idea by Bob Balaban and, second surprise, Robert Altman. Yes, that Robert Altman, the veteran American director of MASH and The Player with a panache for choreographing intricate ensemble performances.

Altman must pull the strings for a stellar cast of 48, while interweaving maybe 20 storylines into a coherent whole with the aid of two observers. Upstairs, there is Balaban's Hollywood producer, taking up an invitation to watch the British at weekend play for his next movie. From the downstairs ranks, Kelly Macdonald's maid Mary, new to her job, learns the ropes from the dry-witted, poisonous grand dame, the Countess of Trentham (the film-stealing Maggie Smith) and the even more cynical head housemaid Elsie (Emily Watson).

Altman directs with elan and a detached amusement born of being an American interloper, and a waspish sense of satire adds to the enjoyment. In addition to this lightness of touch, he skilfully avoids allowing the sheer weight of celebrity faces to overwhelm the screen. All have their moment: the gruff Gambon; his bored snob of a wife, Kristin Scott Thomas; a curt Charles Dance; a charming Jeremy Northam (as matinee idol and piano-playing singer Ivor Novello); Ryan Philippe, as mysterious as his newly acquired Scottish accent; Stephen Fry's bumbling inspector; emotionally brittle Helen Mirren; Alan Bates; Derek Jacobi; Richard E Grant; James Wilby; Tom Hollander; Clive Owen; and more besides.

Not since ITV's Brideshead Revisited, 20 years ago now, has an English country house been home to so many familiar names, and if Gosford Park life lacks the vicious streak of Evelyn Waugh's work, its playful devilry is a joy.

Updated: 08:58 Friday, February 01, 2002