Brideshead Revisited flits about between Oxford, Venice, Morocco and a big house in the country, with no sense of continuity or charisma.

Directed by Julian Jarrold, this adaptation of Evelyn Waugh’s 1945 classic novel unsuccessfully crams hours of material into a painfully dull two hours and 14 minutes.

If only plotlines and interesting characters flowed as well as the supplies of wine, sherry and port, then this film might have slightly more substance.

Instead, a dreary gaggle of upper-class misfits profess their repression from a Catholic upbringing with very little grace – and almost zero entertainment value.

Social climber Charles Ryder (Matthew Goode) is a middle-class Oxford student, pre-Second World War, who develops an infatuation with the aristocratic Flyte family.

He first encounters alcoholic Sebastian Flyte (Ben Whishaw) when he appears at his room and vomits through his window.

After an exchange of flowers, provocative Sebastian befriends Charles and they are soon frolicking in the sun in the grounds of the Flyte-family mansion, Brideshead.

The ‘are they – aren’t they’? relationship between them might be more touching if it was given more time to develop, and didn’t just seem like the fumblings of an alcoholic.

Though haughty and distant to begin with, Sebastian’s sister Julia (Hayley Atwell) is also later caught up with Charles’ charms.

Atheist Charles is surprisingly well-received by mother Lady Marchmain (Emma Thompson) and he becomes fascinated by her iron-fisted rule over the household.

Thompson presents a chilling breath of fresh air.

Perhaps Jarrold was trying too hard not to miss out any details here, and in doing so missed an opportunity to create something perhaps less faithful to Waugh – but at least more entertaining.

There were moments when I thought something might develop into a gripping storyline but all such crescendo moments just fizzled out, probably because there is just not time to see them through.

Goode’s performance is thoroughly unconvincing. He comes off as an upper-class alcoholic with an addiction to wine and wallowing in self pity.

He might be in love with Charles but a series of stolen kisses and clumsy gropings do not constitute a gripping love affair.

And it’s hard to imagine any kind of serious emotional relationship with a grown man who carries a teddy bear around with him.

I haven’t read Waugh’s novel, but I am confident that the characters jump off the page better than these characters appear on the big screen.

There are redeeming features.