Apart from the salty modern language, this is a solid, comfortingly familiar story of hard-pressed newspapermen and the traditional 24-hour sweat to produce a front page. Sweat, in fact, is something people do a lot in this film, from Michael Keaton as the 'metro editor' (No.3) through Glenn Close as the managing editor (No.2) to Robert Duvall as the chain-smoking editor who's just been told he's got prostate cancer. There's lots of shouting and hard-boiled humour, plus of course the inevitable story to be chased: two black youths arrested for a double murder they didn't commit. Director Ron Howard hardly lets the pace drop, so you won't have too much time to ponder the near-impossibility of Keaton's achievements on the trail of the truth. Drily humorous lines, or remarks that the audience finds funnier than the characters take the place of jokes in David and Stephen Koepp's script, and keep you willing the right story to land on the town's doorstep in the morning.

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