"The Painted Veil" Directed by: John Curran Cast: Naomi Watts, Edward Norton, Liev Schreiber, Toby Jones, Diana Rigg Rated: PG13 (for sexual material- mostly implied- and minor drug use, some disturbing cholera images) Running time: 124 minutes Best suited for: drama lovers, periodpiece addicts, the lovestory forlorn Least suited for: the hyperactive I remember watching Garbo in

"The Painted Veil" (1934) a long time ago, late one night when such vintage films are often shown for insomniacs. And I remember thinking, way back when, that I could easily scoop out the melodrama with a ladle and puddle it like so much oozing goo at my feet.

It's a relationship film involving an utter lack of communication- and usually when that happens, midway through the film you just want to reach through the screen and start strangling people.

"Talk to each other, talk to each other! For God's sake, talk to each other!"

Sometimes I believe that Hollywood's secret weapon in concocting such overblown drama is simply to have the director forestall rational communication as long as humanly possible. Wait until the audience is fidgety and groaning, languishing until that inevitable, obligatory spark of intelligent discourse so we can all sigh and weep and go home with our narcoticlike fix of happiness, having been slipped one more dose of cinematic happily-ever-after.

But after having enjoyed a fairly decent run of columns lately- excellent films like "The Last King of Scotland," "Pan's Labyrinth," "The Queen" and "Stranger Than Fiction," I turned a predatory gaze on "The Painted Veil," thinking that too much fun might destroy my enviable sense of cynicism. One mustn't let such an attribute go to waste.

So imagine my dismay when director John Curran's version of W. Somerset Maugham's novel began with stylistic grandeur: an obviously unhappy couple, gentrified and European, sitting in the midst of a lush Chinese wilderness, ragged peaks jutting magnificently behind them. They clearly don't belong there and we don't know them- but for some reason I suspect we'll want to.

It will become a story that only gets better.

Naomi Watts and Edward Norton play Kitty and Walter Fane, a young couple who married for all the wrong reasons- and who now remain together for all the wrong reasons.

Walter is a doctor, a socially inept bacteriologist who volunteers for a hazardous position in the midst of a cholera epidemic deep in China's heartland. Kitty, spoiled and bored until now, is there because she doesn't have a choice- and theirs is a story of two selfish people who must come to terms with their own erratic behavior under the most dangerous of conditions.

There really is no need for the melodrama of its predecessor: although Kitty and Walter's tale is a simple one, the conditions around them quickly overwhelm their petty differences. And Curran nicely underplays everything but the opulence of China, a constant reminder of stunning beauty at every turn.

The year is 1925 and British troops have fired upon Chinese demonstrators in Shanghai. Foreigners have paved China's path for too long now, and both resistance and resentment are festering. Europeans are no longer welcomed. Suddenly Kitty and Walter's childish behaviors seem petty and irrelevant.

They force a bond- tremulous at first, mistrustful and suspicious. As a couple, these people do talk, or at least attempt to chip away the differences between them.

One never begins to doubt that their emotions are put on hold for the want of a good story- their attempts at reconciliation are nicely woven into the backdrop of a particularly brutal history unfolding before their eyes. Curran nicely blends these converging internal and external forces into a rather magnificent tale of selfdiscovery and selfworth.

The film manages to add a bit of empirical subplotting, a touch of religious zealousness, but never takes on the air of admonition or self-righteousness. And, as pawns in a world growing increasingly unstable, the Fanes' marital troubles never outpace the crises around them. If the film's last 15 minutes seemed rushed to me, it may be that I was eagerly hoping to languish a bit longer- less a flaw in the story than of this particular critic. I simply wanted more.

Both Watts and Norton turn in elegant, understated performances here. Add a haunting, melodic soundscape by Alexandre Desplat (the credits also acknowledge Chinese artist Lang Lang for a splendid piano solo) and a continually impressive visual backdrop and "The Painted Veil" soars as a complete cinematic entity- a rare treat for people who simply love good movies.

This is a remarkable love story minus unnecessarily cloying melodramatic varnish, a wonderful, heartfelt drama that deserves to be seen by cynical melodramaphobes (like me) everywhere.