By David Gritten | Thompson on Hollywood September 2, 2012 at 7:00PM
It’s not perfect. There’s a slight loss of pace and intrigue two-thirds of the way through, as Wright’s relentless ingenuity becomes repetitive and a tad exhausting; it reminds you that he was born to parents who ran a puppet theatre.
It’s also fair to say Wright’s shooting style is better suited to scenes set in the urban, sophisticated high society of St. Petersburg than those involving the idealistic farm owner Levin (Domhnall Gleeson). Yet a lesser film (maybe one commissioned by a studio) might simply have dumped the Levin character. He is, of course, a formal counterpoint to Oblonksy’s decadence, and he’s the character closest to Tolstoy’s attitudes to faith and fidelity. In truth, though, he’s a little dull.
As for Aaron Johnson, who plays Anna’s lover Vronsky, he looks like a boy sent in to do a man’s job; Johnson can do shallow and spoiled, which Vronsky certainly is, but he’s too callow to portray a character who is after all an experienced cavalry officer.
Still, there is much here to enjoy and appreciate. Wright certainly knows his cinema: in later scenes, as Anna comes to realise the immense personal cost of her infidelity, Wright shoots Knightley almost in the manner of a tragic heroine from some 1940s movie. The ghosts of assertive actresses from that era – Barbara Stanwyck comes to mind – stir faintly.
All in all, it’s a triumph for Stoppard -- and for Wright, who seems to have aimed for a visual equivalent to Anna’s helpless passion, one to overwhelm audiences with lustrous images and dizzying movement. He just about gets away with it.