Tom Kempinski's two-hander play was an intense, harrowing chamber piece centred on the attempt by a world-famous violinist to come to terms with a cruel fate: the onset of multiple sclerosis. A very difficult subject for the cinema screen proves too much here for director Andrei Konchalovsky and his star Julie Andrews. The director has opened the story right out, so that what seared our imaginations during Stephanie's bitter debate with her therapist is presented to us with the subtlety of a sledgehammer. Andrews tries hard, but she is not ideally cast. Alan Bates as her husband, Max Von Sydow as the therapist and Rupert Everett as the star pupil are all fine, and the first half of the film is very attractive, depicting a glamorous world, with some gorgeous interiors and lovely musical interludes (Nigel Kennedy plays the solos on the soundtrack). But, sadly, the centre of the film remains empty.


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