As the strike by the Writers' Guild of America rolled into its third month, the Golden Globe Awards were announced early this week in an atypically unceremonial manner. It is ironic then that the top prize of best film went to Atonement, an adaptation of renowned novelist Ian McEwan's 2001 book that is, simply put, a deep reflection on the power of writing.

The story opens on a country estate during an idyllic, languid summer in pre-Second World War Britain, where 13-year-old Briony becomes the jealous witness of a romantic/sexual tension between older sister Cecilia (Knightley) and a servant's son, Robbie (McAvoy). Her own nascent sexuality, emotional confusion, narrative endowment, and a sense of rectitude combine into one solid lie that gets Robbie into the war and Cecilia estranged from the family. Having thus sabotaged a young love story, Briony is subjected to an agonising, unremitting process of penitence.

The scenario may itself seem a bit trifling, but that is because by just watching the film you get a sense that you are missing out on a lot of what McEwan tackles literarily. The morbid presence of the war does give some weight to the narrative, and there is also a hint that the story is about much more than what it appears. To elaborate on this would require getting into the brilliant design of the story's climax. But it is easy to notice that our lying protagonist is also an aspiring writer. And in her dishonesty and need for atonement is coded a heartfelt commentary on literature and art in general (and perhaps also on their incompleteness).

With a subject-matter this nuanced, layered and literary, it is clear why the movie adaptation will be somewhat resented. Director Joe Wright's previous adaptation of Pride and Prejudice met with similar reservations in some quarters. Yet the film stood out for its vivacity and perspective unexplored in previous versions.

The same approach, however, appears shallow in Atonement. Wright concentrates on the mood and the texture, repeatedly overlooking the psychological and moral depth of the story. There is a real crisis of credibility. The romance between Cecilia and Robbie feels tentative, the themes are not soul-stirring, and Briony's efforts of reparation are unpersuasive. In other words, perhaps in reverence of the original novel, Wright's adaptation paradoxically ends up showing how fictional McEwan's fiction is.

Then again, what is good in literature is rarely the same as what is good in cinema. Thankfully, Wright is a brilliant filmmaker, capable of creating shots and sequences so beautiful that they will just bowl you over. Take for example the challenge Wright had of portraying Robbie's haunting experience of the war.

orfeiting the conventional depictions of war's horror, he opts instead for a minutes-long, heavily choreographed, almost illusory single shot, as the camera follows Robbie through the waiting soldiers at the Dunkirk beach. This utterly aesthetic choice is a point of controversy, making us wonder if art can ever contain politics in this manner. But the cinematic experience of it is also something to be taken into account. At the end, there is something in the movie that is genuinely tantalising. To Wright's credit, it's his filmmaking.

ATONEMENT
Director: Joe Wright.
Cast: Kiera Knightley, James McAvoy, Romola Garai, Saoirse Ronan.
2007. R. 130 min.