Cyrano de Bergerac may be the most famous French play anywhere, the story of the short-tempered poet and soldier with the long nose.
It's been made several times before, often picking up awards for the lead actor or the makeup departments. Steve Martin won a Golden Globe in the modern-day, American update called Roxanne.
Now another American actor - Peter Dinklage - has gone back to basics in a new version of the original play.
Photo: Universal Pictures
But in this Cyrano, from English director Joe Wright, one change has been made. Cyrano de Bergerac is no longer marred by his nose, but by his lack of height.
But he's still the wittiest man in 17th Century Paris, as well as the most lethal swordsman. Woe betide anyone who dares to offer him an insult, or for that matter put something unsatisfactory on the stage.
When a haughty aristocrat takes issue with the undersized theatre critic, he is soon put in his place - his place being six feet under. The rule of law in this period is rather elastic.
The rule of makeup is even more so. Powder and paint are applied by the gallon, though for some reason more on the men and less on women like Cyrano's best friend Roxane.
Roxane is played by Haley Bennet, who's a new one on me, even though it turns out I've seen her in several films before.
Since she's meant to be the most staggeringly beautiful woman in Paris, this lack of impact seems a flaw in the casting. Were Jessica Barden, Thomasin McKenzie - even Tuppence Middleton not available?
But it transpires that Haley Bennet is in fact the life-partner of director Joe Wright. Ah. She also appeared in the original stage production of this Cyrano. No, not on the West End, or on Broadway.
It played - I'm sure to packed houses - in Connecticut, I believe.
So how, you wonder, could a minor theatre group afford to get the very well-known Dinklage to take on the role of Cyrano?
The answer to that is that the new adaptation was written by one Erica Schmidt - or as she's known by the tax department, Mrs Peter Dinklage.
In fact, the story behind this production of that creaky old warhorse Cyrano de Bergerac is starting to sound far more interesting than the play itself.
As I'm sure most of you won't need reminding, the plot in a nutshell is that Cyrano loves the quite attractive Roxane from afar, but she loves another.
After Roxane confesses her love for the handsome but tongue-tied Christian, Cyrano selflessly sets out to lend his wit and poetry to his rival.
If he can't have the girl himself, he can pride himself that his irresistible poetry has done the job, albeit on someone else's lips.
It's very French, in other words, and a story that in these cynical times may need a bit more selling than it did back in the day of playwright Edmond Rostand.
This version curiously swings between flowery prose, and even more flowery rhyming couplets.
Rhyming couplets tend to work rather better on stage than in a screen adaptation.
But to help things along, writer Schmidt and director Wright have summoned another Muse of Fire - a bunch of songs from a band called The National.
This might have been a good idea if the songs were any good. The composers are highly regarded, I believe, but they offer very little evidence why here. The songs mostly sound as if they were cobbled together the night before.
The only time the score briefly lights up is at the end - far too late - when Irish singer Glen Hansard, of Once fame, arrives to play a doomed soldier before a battle.
In fact the mark of what's wrong with the film is that the best things aren't at the front - the awful makeup, the so-so star performances - but in the back.
The sets in real-life Sicily are beautiful, and the best performance is the great Monica Dolan as Roxane's maid. She doesn't get a song, by the way, which may be a bit of luck for her.
