THE obvious thing to say about Phone Booth, which is sure to litter reviews of the film, is that although a movie shot in real time about a man stuck in a phone box for an hour shouldn't be interesting it really works.

But this is to undersell the film, because Phone Booth is so tense, so well acted, so well shot that you don't notice that most of the time not very much is happening.

It's a really refreshing film and one that was definitely worth waiting for (it's release was delayed by the Washington Snipers).

And the film has probably benefited from its delay - Colin Farrell is now the next big thing and the TV series 24 has popularised the use of real time (when the events in a film happen over the same length of times as the film is shown for).

Too often films are so desperate to be more shocking, more exciting than the last one that they throw so many jolts, twists and turns at us that we become numb to them.

But Phone Booth builds the tension up to nauseating heights by focusing on every word that Stu, the publicist who finds himself pinned down in a phone box, utters in an attempt to wriggle out of the situation, and every mind game that the sniper on the other end of the phone plays.

The film is perfectly pitched, with enough lighter moments, particularly involving a group of prostitutes who want to use the phone, to vary the pace of the film.

And Colin Farrell gives his best performance yet as the arrogant but strangely likeable Stu.

The biggest downside of the film is Kiefer Sutherland's rather theatrical performance as the sniper. Sutherland re-shot the part, which was originally played by Ron Elard, and it's hard to see what the film gained by casting such a well-known actor in a role that is so menacing because the character is unknown.

But minor gripes aside, this is a great, original film.

I give it: 7/10

SALLY CHURCHWARD

AT FIRST glance, a phone box doesn't seem to offer much in the way of dramatic potential. Fumbling to get the next 20p in before the pips run out might make you want to urinate with anger - presumably the reason why all old-style British phone boxes stank so abominably - but it's hardly going to get the average multiplex audience chewing their fingers to the bone with excitement.

But put that phone box in the middle of a busy New York street with a sniper's gun trained on it - and the maniacally cackling would-be assassin playing mind games with you on the other end of the phone - and suddenly it becomes the most claustrophobic, hysteria-inducing prison cell this side of the Bangkok Hilton.

Phone Booth offers a new take on the classic bunch-of-strangers-stuck-in-a-lift scenario - except there's only one person and he's not stuck in a lift.

But the dramatic principle is exactly the same, and the sense of entrapment is made all the more agonising by the fact that everyday New York life is simply carrying on around him - but to hang up and step outside would mean certain death.

Underlying the simple drama, though - notched up to sweat-inducing proportions by Farrell, whose fantastically eloquent eyebrows deserve an Oscar in their own right - is a none-too-subtle metaphor which casts the mysterious, unseen sniper as Farrell's own conscience.

The fact the sniper - who later, rather boringly, turns out to be Kiefer Sutherland - speaks with the voice of God and is on a crusade to wipe out fibbers (he picks on Farrell because he mentally cheats on his wife and tells all his clients he can make them stars) points us in this direction.

The real clincher, though, is that Farrell emerges from his ordeal a new and better man. Forced by the sniper to confess his sins, he is redeemed. Before you ask, it wasn't directed by Oprah Winfrey - but it might have been.

Fortunately, the touchy-feely New Age pretensions don't spoil the fun. The best thing I can say about this film is that it will definitely make you think twice before stepping into a phone box.

I give it: 8/10

ANDREW WHITE