I See Buildings Fall Like Lightning      Director: Clio Barnard Cert: NoneGenre: DramaStarring: Anthony Boyle, Joe Cole, Jay Lycurgo, Daryl McCormack, Lola Petticrew Running Time: 1 hr 49 minsEarly in Clio Barnard’s handsome, uneven adaptation of Keiran Goddard’s novel, one of the five main characters is asked to outline his university thesis. There follows a wordy tract, one of several, about the diminishing returns of contemporary labour and the fuzzy end of the lollipop bequeathed to millennials.These admittedly urgent concerns sometimes dwarf the ambitious I See Buildings Fall Like Lightning, a poignantly performed portrait of Birmingham friends confronting stalled lives, gaping class divides and dashed hopes as they hit 30. Even the title flags the demolition of social housing to make way for private-sector profiteering.A soulful cast, including the Irish stars Daryl McCormack, Anthony Boyle and Lola Petticrew, occupy carefully stratified societal points.Boyle’s Patrick is a graduate supporting a young family with precarious delivery work. McCormack’s Conor is a hothead with grand architectural ambitions, a new baby and huge debts. Joe Cole’s Rian is the local boy made good, a financier who has made his fortune in London yet gravitates towards home. Jay Lycurgo’s Oli is a small-time dealer with a kind heart and a newly acquired dog named Lola. Petticrew stands out as Shiv, Patrick’s wife and one of the few characters on screen who appears grounded and emotionally intact. But even Shiv is not averse to the drug- and alcohol-fuelled binges that bond the crew together. A late tragedy and relationship revelations swerve the material into melodrama, grafting an urgency on to both the material and the youthful partying.Barnard expertly captures cocaine in loos, singalongs to The Streets’ Don’t Mug Yourself, and general working-class life in rich, convincing detail, shooting in real Brummie homes, pubs and streets. The friendships feel equally authentic, even when the source material, largely composed of inner monologues, can sound polemic transposed to the big screen. Enda Walsh’s script compensates with beautifully constructed interpersonal relations between swipes at capitalism, landlords and generational decline. Simon Tindall’s fluid camerawork adds to a textured sense of place.