Does what it says on the tin.
Two teachers at an elite prep school – one an alcoholic wordsmith (Clive Owen), the other an arthritis-impaired painter (Juliette Binoche) – come to metaphorical blows over the respective merits of art and literature in a verbose rom-com that fails to convince us its central debate is one worth having.
Nor do its stars prove particularly plausible as lovebirds, their progression from squabbling rivals to cooing bedmates undermined by their patent lack of chemistry and Owen’s dire chat-up lines (“I’ve had a vasectomy and I’m very clean!”). Self-conscious nods to Dead Poets Society only show how far Fred Schepisi’s film trails behind it.
