Rachel Weisz and Sam Clafin in My Cousin Rachel

MY COUSIN RACHEL
Directed by Roger Michell
Certificate 15
☆☆☆

DAPHNE du Maurier wrote My Cousin Rachel in 1951 – and it was typical fare for the historian, novelist and biographer. While she had a reputation for writing “old-fashioned” novels – namely, not bending to mid-century traits of Modernism in fiction – her books such as Jamaica Inn and Rebecca were widely popular.

Her biographer, the late Margaret Forster, would say du Maurier did not want her readers to feel content at the end of her books – rather troubled, questioned and haunted.

My Cousin Rachel certainly does that – and the key to Roger Michell’s adaptation must be whether you feel the same as you leave the cinema.

Orphan Philip (Sam Clafin) is taken under the wing of wealthy and benevolent big cousin Ambrose (Tristam Davies). He grows up loving his guardian’s company and is being groomed to take on his estate when old age should require it.

But things take a swerve when Ambrose heads to Florence for one of those Victorian ailment cures, promptly falls for mysterious Rachel (Rachel Weisz), then frightens the life out of his young charge back in Blighty by sending a series of increasingly pained and mysterious letters, claiming that he is both unwell and that the cause of his illness is suspicious.

Philip sets off to rescue his guardian but arrives too late – he is dead. But grief and thoughts of revenge are soon overturned when he meets Rachel – and instead he gets himself into a pickle as to whether she can be trusted or not.

Surely this gentle soul can’t be a murderer? And surely she has feelings for him, despite being recently widowed? Does the odd-tasting potions she brews up spell doom – or just keep the imbiber regular? It doesn’t help his cause that the only advice he can be offered, the only guidance he gets, comes from his godfather – who clearly hopes his daughter Louise Kendall (Holliday Grainger) might win his hand in marriage.

Daphne du Maurier’s novel weaves a sense of intrigue, but the film projects too much and leaves the viewer guessing too little.

Perhaps some of the finest parts are by the bit players – the servants and minor characters. Hats off to the casting director to have gathered such a motley collection, with some light-heartened moments provided by servants Chris Gallarus and Bobby Scott Freeman.

And it’s good to have Rachel Weisz back on the screen and in a role she attacks with relish.

There is not too much wrong with this adaptation, but it does feel a little soulless. It perhaps suffers from being released so soon after the superb Lady Macbeth, which had a similar feel and storyline, but did it with much more oomph.