Today, when Britain's film industry is the envy of the world, it is hard to believe that it might once have gone under. Given its vast importance to our national economy - not least in Buckinghamshire and Surrey, home of the Pinewood and Shepperton complexes - it is just as well that when, in the late 1960s, the American studios threatened to withdraw their patronage, Harold Wilson's Labour government stepped in with a gigantic bailout.

Until then, nobody had realised that he was an Ealing comedy buff, or that Roy Jenkins was such a fan of the Carry On films. But thanks to their financial support, Hollywood in the Home Counties became a reality.

These days, many intellectuals insist that American films are more ambitious and artistic than their British equivalents. Some of our series are genuinely indefensible: Roy "Chubby" Brown and Ricky Tomlinson, the stars of the Carry On films, are national treasures, but the prospect of a 61st instalment fills me with utter misery. Ken Loach's Confessions of a Window Cleaner series is also probably past its sell-by date, though Ewan McGregor has done well in the title role since taking over from Keith Chegwin (who, you will recall, replaced the much-loved Sir Robin Askwith).

But what is most impressive about the British film industry today is its sheer variety. If you want populist entertainment, for instance, there has never been a bigger blockbuster franchise in movie history than Blake's 7, with its groundbreaking special effects, and now 3-D. If you want comedy, you're spoilt for choice: perhaps Duty Free VI, still starring Keith Barron and Gwen Taylor, or the most recent of the To the Manor Born films, which finally won Penelope Keith Best Actress at Cannes on her fifth nomination. Historical epics? Look no further than Ridley Scott's new cinematic version of the Seven Years War, with Russell Crowe as Pitt the Elder (a controversial overseas casting), or perhaps Guy Ritchie's sensitive Gladstone biopic, which boasts a terrific performance from Kate Winslet as the Grand Old Man's wife, Catherine.

Many people dislike the apparatus of celebrity that the films bring with them: the stars' mansions on the outskirts of Uxbridge and Slough; the endless deal-making and fakery in suburban Surrey pubs; the entourages of bodyguards and make-up artists, trailing in the wake of international megastars such as Leslie Grantham and Kevin Whately. But when the pay-off is performances such as Vinnie Jones's role in Hamlet, why would you complain?