A recent photo spread in the New York Times Magazine, one of that publication's typical puff pieces, captures perfectly the atmosphere and tone of the new film of Evelyn Waugh's novel "Brideshead Revisited." It shows Matthew Goode, who plays the narrator-protagonist Charles Ryder, lounging limply in a series of precious attitudes, wearing incredibly expensive clothes (a shirt priced at $930, for example) that copy those of the film's time period, the 20's and 30's. The careful lighting, the pricey attire, the flaccid poses nicely summarize the superficial beauty, the silly affectation, and the cloying air of aristocratic languor that pervade the entire picture.

The movie follows the basic pattern of the novel, beginning, so to speak, after its major action ends, during World War II, with Charles Ryder, now a captain in the British Army returning to the magnificent house he had visited during his days at Oxford. In a series of flashbacks, it then unfolds in a sort of Proustian retrospect, with Charles remembering the past and his connections with Brideshead's inhabitants, the wealthy, aristocratic Marchmains, and especially his friend, the charming wastrel Lord Sebastian Flyte (Ben Whishaw). (Like cricket, the English aristocracy remains a mystery to most Americans - Sebastian's older brother is called Brideshead, his mother and sisters are all the Ladies Marchmain).

The only son of an eccentric widower, Charles meets the dissipated Sebastian at Oxford, where he distinguishes himself with a cornucopia of consciously effete and childish mannerisms, including carrying a teddy bear everywhere. For unclear reasons the two become fast friends, forming one of those classic homoerotic relationships that appear frequently in the literature of both the English public school and the English aristocracy. Sebastian introduces Charles to his circle of rich, indolent drones and to his family, descendants of ancient Catholic nobility.

Like the novel, the film reflects some of the intricacies of social class in a time and place where the whole system depended upon a set of often unspoken assumptions about any individual's place in an intricate scheme of stratification. None of the major characters actually works for a living, for example, and none of the college students actually studies anything - they all know the assurance of a privileged place in society, and nobody attends Oxford for the purpose of learning anyway. In addition, Sebastian's religion inhibits his family even more powerfully than class, straining his parents' marriage and in some odd ways destroying the lives of the children.

Succumbing to the charms of Sebastian and his family, Charles travels with him and his sister, Lady Julia (Hayley Atwell), to visit Venice where their father, separated from his devout, dominating wife (Emma Thompson), lives in a fine palazzo with his mistress. In Venice Charles falls in love with Julia, which engenders the most important personal complication in the picture and underlines the cost, right or wrong, that the family's faith exacts from them all.

Despite the rich subjects of class and religion and all the emotional connections, the real attraction of the movie lies in its beautiful surfaces. The camera dwells lovingly on Castle Howard, the Brideshead of both the endless miniseries and the movie, its green lawns and vast gardens, the magnificent architecture, the immense baroque fountain where Charles and Sebastian swim naked together. In the manner of the Merchant Ivory wallpaper movies, it positively fondles the concrete emblems of wealth and status - the furniture, the automobiles, and of course those clothes that the New York Times advertised.

In its melancholic retrospective of a vanished time, the movie hints at the rot corrupting a society ignorant of the violent currents of change in that period between two devastating wars, undeserving inheritors of an ancient past, dependent on the artificial structures of class and privilege. The film's meticulous attention to the shiny veneer of its places, objects, and people ironically suggests the fragility and ephemerality of the life it examines. Paradoxically, those people and their behaviors usually provide the objects of Evelyn Waugh's brilliant satires, so that "Brideshead Revisited," strangely, celebrates and memorializes a world the author usually (and rightly) scorned.

Brideshead Revisited

(PG-13), directed by Julian Jarrold

Now playing