At times, director Mira Nair's film adaptation of Vanity Fair makes a very effective advertisement for her home country of India -- which is referred to quite a bit in the story. Showing up in what amounts to cinematic cameos, India absolutely blows 19th century England away. It made me wish more of the tale took place there. 

One wonders whether this effect was deliberate or done subconsciously by Indian-born Nair. The Indian scenes stand out because they, however briefly, showcase Nair's specialty -- her dazzling use of rainbow colors, as displayed by foliage, architecture, and costume. Back in England, however, the scenes appear inexplicably murky. They look underlit and dirty, and only star Reese Witherspoon's attire dares to stand out in bold hues.

Because Vanity Fair is an exposé of the facade of the period's English upper societies, perhaps the dinginess is not so inexplicable after all. The women, often the arbiters of status in that world, are protective and defensive of their heritage, breeding, and social circles, but as we watch protagonist Rebecca Sharp step through the looking glass, we see there's nothing behind the walls they've erected. No wonder England looks so ugly. No wonder the glimpses of Indian color provide the missing warmth, and that several of the characters find better fates when they escape to that nation.

This thread is an interesting one to explore, but it's also difficult to track. Nair may have had cultural contrasts in mind, but she stretches the idea almost beyond any lasting impression across a two-hour-and-fifteen-minute running time. Filled with numerous parallel subplots and erratic jumps in time and locale, the film's struggle to cover narrative ground is quite visible. And as it hops from one drama to the next, we can't help yearning for more time to simply stop and smell the flower petals.

The savior of the piece could have been Reese Witherspoon, but she doesn't quite fit comfortably in her role. It's tough to say whether this is because of Witherspoon or the way her character was written, but nonetheless Ms. Sharp is missing her edge -- and we're never certain whether we should be rooting for her or against her. The film seems to expect the audience to be already aware that she's resourceful, so much so it neither dwells on nor develops that quality. This is unlike, say, Gone with the Wind's Scarlett O'Hara, the most readily available comparison, whose strengthening was always on display for us. On the other hand, because Becky Sharp is just naturally that way, she's not as much fun to watch. 

Meanwhile, pity Nair for not being able to play to her own strengths. The pairing of a director skilled at displaying visual vitality with a story about the ugliness of a society works out about as well as it sounds. Nair isn't allowed to make England pretty, which is a shame. Well, we'll always have India.

(Released by Focus Features and rated "PG-13" for sensuality, partial nudity and a brief violent image.)

Review also posted at www.windowtothemovies.com.