As one would expect, this film is visually entrancing and all the actors at their best. The problem is that of so many similar dramas about the rich and beautiful- one is presented with a story of cruel and almost casual adultery but the pain is soothed by the extraordinary splendour of the setting. In fact, if presented in a manner much more realistic as regards the actual period Waugh was depicting, the film , though still showing rich and welldressed characters and interiors, would be much less luxurious and more sordid. Great houses were draughty in those days, with furniture that was venerable but often ragged. Smart ladies might have been expensively dressed but didn't always have their hairdos so sleek. The escapist modern TV series and films that are so popular are more like the pages of Vogue than real life. Waugh was depicting a vain, empty and horribly selfish society woman and her social climber of a paramour. Only the patient husband is good and loving. His heartbreak is real and ultimately tragic. One feels this when reading the novel, but the smooth beauty of the film is ultimately a betrayal of the book.