The title makes the heart sink. The American habit of adding "William Shakespeare's" to Romeo and Juliet or specifying "Berlin, Germany" so we won't think they're referring to any of the 21 small towns so named in the US is infuriatingly self-absorbed.
But though this adaptation of the 1891 novella is an American venture, it has an Israeli director of Georgian descent and it oozes British quality: producer Donald Rosenfeld was president of Merchant-Ivory in the Howard's End and Remains of the Day era and the cast is made up of solid second-tier talent, predominantly from Britain and Ireland.
Meanwhile, cinematographer Paul Sarossy conjures the same ethereal quality he achieved in his collaborations with Atom Egoyan. In handsome compositions he bathes the seaside setting (Croatia standing in for the Caucasus) with a shimmering other-worldly light that lends the action an appropriately stagey feel.
The group of Russians in this sweltering summer resort interact with conspicuous civility but there is plenty simmering beneath the surface.
At the centre of the ensemble is Laevsky (Scott), positively dripping with ennui and longing for "the pines, the mushrooms, the ideas" of St Petersburg. He is trying to work out how to ditch his married mistress, Nadya (Glascott) of whom he has tired. Nadya, for her part, coquettishly exploits the lust of most of the menfolk in town, notably by running up bills beyond Laevsky's means at the local milliner's. An enmity brews with the pompous and self-righteous zoologist, Von Koren (Menzies) who has nothing but contempt for the wastrel Laevsky.
