The commonly held view was that Perfume – the 1985 ode to odour and obsession by reclusive Bavarian novelist Patrick Süskind – was unfilmable. But Run Lola Run director Tom Tykwer has captured its essence brilliantly.

The story concerns a Parisian unfortunate by the name of Jean-Baptiste Grenouille - born in 1738 on a bed of rotting fish guts, barely surviving his first night at the orphanage, thence sold in his youth to work the rest of his days in a tannery.

Grenouille (Whishaw) is blessed with a superhuman sense of smell. His incredible olfactory memory leads him into the employ of Baldini (Hoffman), a perfume-maker with a dwindling reputation. The partnership turns both their fortunes.

Yet the apprentice is haunted by his earlier street encounter with a pretty plum seller. Her accidental murder gives him but one purpose in life: to extract the unextractable - the scent of women.

Grenouille's fixation takes him to the perfume capital of Europe – Grasse - where the girls are as fragrant and untainted as the surrounding countryside.

After some experimentation, he perfects his technique as hunter-gatherer, a gloopily macabre process involving a cudgel, animal fat and virgin flesh.

He intends to complete his collection with teenaged redhead Laura (Hurd-Wood). But first he must get around her protective father Richis (Rickman) - the only voice of reason in the now panic-stricken town.

In a career-making performance, Whishaw (a bit player in Layer Cake) plays Grenouille like a maltreated dog – instinctive, sneaky, and devoid of empathy.

And short of providing scratch-and-sniff cards, it's hard to see how Tykwer could create a more intoxicating and subtly fantastical atmosphere.

To the fitting accompaniment of John Hurt's smoky narration and the director’s own score, from filth-smeared streets to fields of lavender, almost every frame touches the senses.

The conclusion, however, is a bit off, with some preposterous Caligula-style delirium which makes everyone - even the untouchable Rickman - look slightly foolish.

It's a sour note in an otherwise fine distillation of a modern classic. Overall, Perfume is an achievement not to be sniffed at.

Elliott Noble