It's wartime. Passions run high and the intensity of living in the moment makes you rash and impetuous. You can get laid if you carry chewing gum and a pair of nylon tights. How can Cotilliard not fall madly in love with Pitt? How can Pitt not fall madly in love with Cotilliard? Jesus, I could fall in love with Pitt on a council house roof in Smethwick in peacetime in October, never mind on a shared wartime derring-do under the stars in the Casablanca heat, and I'm straight. I think I might already love Cotilliard. But it's all so lifeless. Such a lack of chemistry between these two leads can only be explained off screen, surely? It looks sumptuous, but it feels staged and contrived. Some good moments, but it's basically style over substance. It might have helped a bit had it not begged comparisons with Casablanca, but it seems to go out of it's way and ask for them to it's inevitable detriment. It's not that you can't reimagine wartime romance in the desert, just that The English Patient did this kind of thing so much better.