TRAILER: Tale of a literary love tested to the limit

It’s easy to appreciate creative genius, but it must be hell to live with it.

Based on the novel by Jan Parini, The Last Station is a love story set during the final year of Russian writer Leo Tolstoy’s life, focusing on the terrible strain borne by his wife, the Countess.

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Unable to live together under the same roof without descending into spiteful bickering, yet unwilling to live apart because of their deep love, the elderly couple plays out these final months against a backdrop of political intrigue.

In truth, were it not for Christopher Plummer and Helen Mirren’s Oscar nominations as Best Actor and Best Actress, Michael Hoffman’s history lesson could have bypassed the big screen and debuted on DVD.

This is a handsome, Sunday afternoon costume drama with a fleeting sex scene to set pulses racing.

Our guide to this rarefied world is Valentin Bulgakov (McAvoy), the newly appointed private secretary to the great Leo Tolstoy (Plummer), who arrives at the writer’s estate to find himself in the middle of a very public war.

Tolstoy’s devoted disciple Vladimir Chertkov (Giamatti) intends to persuade the writer to sign over the rights to his works to the Russian people.

Countess Sofya (Mirren) vehemently disagrees, determined that the considerable fortune belongs to her family.

As the tug of war over Tolstoy’s legacy becomes increasingly heated, involving his favourite daughter Sasha (Duff) and personal physician Dushan Makovitsky (Sessions), Valentin experiences the pangs of love with devoted Tolstoy acolyte, Masha (Condon).

The Last Station hinges on the verbal sparring between Plummer’s world-weary artist, replete with impressive beard, and Mirren’s embittered spouse, who creates more drama than her husband could ever commit to the page.

Giamatti doesn’t stretch himself greatly, while McAvoy lets his beautiful, blue eyes fill with tears in a largely reactive role.

The tiny railway station at Astapovo provides a suitably cold setting for the characters’ final moments together, when Sofya’s frustrations with Sasha boil over – “You are a stone-hearted bitch... I lost five children. Why couldn’t one of them have been you?” – and the Russian people bid farewell to a literary titan.

Grainy, black and white footage of the real Tolstoy and Countess, and the public outpouring of love and grief at Astapovo, give us pause for reflection over the end credits.