"I am a steward, not a pimp," protests Gérard Depardieu, the titular, tragic hero of Vatel, upon hearing that a member of Louis XIV's court (specifically, the king's brother), in town for the weekend, has requested the company of one of his young kitchen assistants. It makes you wonder: Has screenwriter Tom Stoppard (who adapted the English-language script from a French one by Jeanne Labrune) been checking out old Star Trek episodes on satellite TV over in Britain? Directed by Roland Joffé— who got lucky once, with 1984's The Killing Fields, and then went on to craft some of the most determinedly turgid reels of celluloid that mankind has ever encountered (City of Joy, Fat Man and Little Boy, The Scarlet Letter)—the very sumptuous-looking Vatel is prickly with such infelicities (Tim Roth phoning in the Rob Roy-ish noble rot; a near climactic scene so muddily shot and edited that it takes a good five minutes for one to figure out whether it is slapstick or tragic; and so on).

And yet it's not without its pleasures. Chief among them is Depardieu, as the loyal, inventive steward, whose master's fate will be determined by whether the Sun King (Julian Sands) has a grand old time on his weekend in the country. His character's composure, creativity (among other things, the picture will teach you useful methods of meat-pie and custard extension, in case you ever have to feed hundreds and come up short on ingredients), and passion for a job well-done are palpable, but Depardieu also beautifully displays the desperate loneliness at the man's core. Meanwhile, Uma Thurman's role, an ambivalent courtier who endangers her standing by embarking on a friendship (and more) with Vatel, adds a poignant note of grace to the man's sad story. For all the movie's fumbling, Depardieu's embodiment of how men can be defined—and sometimes destroyed—by their work leaves its mark.