Possession

Neil Labute’s magnificently scabrous, sharp-witted and side-splitting early warnings as director (In The Company Of Men and Your Friends & Neighbours) – though bizarrely accused of misogyny – were more magnificently attuned to the realities of human nature than anything Hollywood would generally let past the censor. Nonetheless, they marked him out as a genuine visionary, an impression confirmed by LaBute’s theatre work.

Widely misidentified by critics as a sneering misanthrope, LaBute’s work still bears the stamp of a lapsed romantic, and as if to confirm, his latest unlikely venture is an adaptation of A.S. Byatt’s gushy Booker Prize-winning novel. The good news largely ends there, however, as Possession is just far too plodding and pedestrian to engage the heart or senses, despite the obvious care and attention lavished upon it.

It’s about the outbreak of a less-than-thrilling affair between two literary scholars (named Maud and Roland, which should say it all) The central chemistry-free coupling of Gwyneth Paltrow and LaBute regular Aaron Eckhart just doesn’t convince, though Paltrow’s presence won’t damage the film commercially – and despite no shortage of handsome panoramic views, non-Mills & Boon diehards will be fidgeting desperately long before the credits. Mitigating circumstances include a series of rewrites and reshoots, but it’s beyond dispute that LaBute is capable of miles better than Possession would indicate.