This is the story of Blunt, Burgess, Philby and Maclean, the most notorious double agents in British history. In 1934 at Cambridge University, they establish a spy ring fuelled by youthful idealism, passionately committed to social justice and to fighting fascism. The four become embroiled in obtaining and passing on vital information, betraying their country to fight the evils of fascism. Enigma secrets and atomic details are given to Russian contacts as the careers of the four take them from Guernica to Vienna, New York and Washington - and a final, desperate flight to Moscow. During almost 20 years of counter-intelligence, despite their personal journeys, the four are bound by their beliefs and their secrets. This is a thriller spy story that begins with a profound closeness based on a passion for a cause, and then moves on to shared sacrifices, stress, strain, and eventually breakdown and betrayal.  Cambridge Spies, the BBC's moody 2003 dramatisation of the most notorious debacle in the history of the British Secret Service, raises the spectre of the treachery of Philby, Burgess, MacLean and Blunt for a generation of viewers who can only imagine the shockwaves generated by their duplicity. Inevitably the story suffers from the basically repellent quality of its raw material. Determinedly non-judgemental, it frequently stumbles along a precarious path between romantic eulogy and fact-based fable of the perils of idealism. For all the handsome casting, the characters have little charm to compensate for their deeds. Their motivations are sketched only vaguely. Even in moments of personal vulnerability, however poignant the performances, sympathy is at a premium. But it has its high points as an atmospheric soap opera: the recreation of a period that stretches from the radical aspects of 1930s university life at Cambridge to Cold War London, dipping into the Spanish Civil War and the Washington diplomatic circle en route, is vivid. The acting, too, is fine. Tom Hollander's rampantly dissolute Burgess verges constantly on parody. But Toby Stephens (Philby), Samuel West (a frosty Blunt) and Rupert Penry-Jones (an emotionally wrung-out MacLean) work wonders with Peter Moffat's insubstantial script. On the DVD: Cambridge Spies is a handsome production with a cinematic quality enhanced by an appropriately edgy soundtrack and widescreen presentation. The main extra is the commentary shared by director Tim Fywell, producer Mark Shivas and writer Peter Moffat. It's a rather self-congratulatory affair, but includes some interesting insights: attempts to film some events in their real location met with refusal, suggesting that in some quarters, the outrage and embarrassment that Burgess, Philby and MacLean left in their wake is still very close to the surface. --Piers Ford