This is Bafta’s best year by far, and there isn’t a major studio in the world that doesn’t know it. The British are creating the best independent films in the world, and for the first time in its long history of pure envy the British Academy can cock a snook at its far more glamorous American counterpart. You don’t need to be Barry Norman to work out that the big films fighting for the top honours at the Bafta awards on February 8 will also be walking up the aisle two weeks later in Los Angeles.

What’s truly remarkable about the Bafta nominations is the sheer power of British muscle on display. You could swap every nomination for the top prize, Best Film, for all five nominations for Outstanding British Film without a single blush. That’s very rare. The American film that is putting up the biggest fight against a Slumdog Millionaire clean sweep is David Fincher’s grotesque piece of whimsy, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. From my unbiased point of view it’s hardly a contest, even though they have been nominated for an astonishing 11 awards each.

If Kate Winslet wins the Leading Actress award she will have to remember to thank herself as well as Angelina, Meryl and Kristin for being such jolly tremendous rivals because “oor Kate” has been nominated twice, for The Reader and Revolutionary Road.

Michael Sheen can feel justifiably miffed at missing the cut for Leading Actor for his performance in Frost/Nixon, but this is by far the toughest category to call. Dev Patel, who plays the Indian teenager in Slumdog, looks way out of his depth against Sean Penn ( Milk), Brad Pitt ( Benjamin Button) and the wily Frank Langella ( Frost/Nixon). But if there is any justice (and usually there isn’t) the award ought to go to Mickey Rourke for basically playing himself in The Wrestler.

Finally, one of the most revealing features about the Bafta 2008 Nominations is the number of films that have been poached from books, plays and biographies. Traditionally this is a skill that the Brits are rather good at, a shining example being Peter Morgan’s screenplay of Frost/Nixon adapted from his own stage play. This, coupled with the writers’ strike in Hollywood last year, and the closure of so many American indie companies because of the credit crunch, partly explains why there are so many British films at the top of the heap. Let’s revel in it while we can.

James Christopher is chief film critic of The Times

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