Anna Karenina

If there is one word most used to describe the literary works of the Russian author Leo Tolstoy, it is 'long'. His most famous novel, 'War and Peace', is over one thousand pages long and could certainly be used as an offensive weapon. Anna Karenina – at over eight hundred pages – is the latest cinematic adaptation of Tolstoy's work and stars Keira Knightley in the title role. Love her or hate her, Knightley is certainly one of the most successful British actors of recent years and seems perfectly cast as the self-destructive Anna. Shame, then, that the rest of the film is emotionally-inert.

Directed by Joe Wright (who has collaborated with Knightley on two previous films – Atonement and Pride and Prejudice), Anna Karenina is set in nineteenth-century Russian high society and sees aristocrat Anna Karenina embark on an affair with the affluent Count Vronsky (played by Aaron Taylor-Johnson). From the opening scene, it is clear that this adaptation is rather unlike Wright's previous costume dramas which have been played straight-down-the-line. Much of the action is set in a theatre and the characters weave in and out of the sets with a balletic fluidity which was very impressive. Combined with innovative editing, the theatricality of the film is both its greatest strength and weakness.

There is no doubt that Anna Karenina oozes quality. From the sets to the costumes, the exuberant mise-en-scène is both enticing and distracting. In many ways, such a theatrical approach distances the audiences from becoming emotionally-engaged with the characters and, given that this is essentially a love story, this is a problem. Things are not helped by the performances which are rather uneven and Anna's moustachioed love interest is somewhat miscast and wasn't as magnetic as he should have been. Knightley, on the other hand, settles comfortably into the role of Anna and commands the aristocratic role with confidence. Her performance is, however, difficult to engage with – as is the narrative which is hugely overshadowed by the film's theatrical nature.

Wright's decision to pursue such an extravagant tone may reflect the novel's original intention: to depict the falsity and excesses of Tsarist Russian high society. The director of photography, Seamus McGarvey, has done a fantastic job reflecting this society, where people take pleasure in seeing Anna's downfall. His lyrical camera movement was first-class and I could have quite happily watched this technical aspect of the film at the expense of the story. A dance sequence really showed his flair for dynamic camera movement and certainly impressed.

The fundamental flaw with Anna Karenina, however, is its overt theatricality. Whilst this makes the film pleasant to look at, it swamps any sense of a meaningful, emotionally-charged story. Ultimately, this should have been the film's focus and no matter how 'nice' everything looks, the vacuum left by the lack of electric performances and any sense of realism left me as emotionally cold as a Russian winter. 

Clapperboard Rating: * *