There is an inherent pretension in the sound of a violin -- as if its quivering strings are too heavenly for human ears. But the instrument can also serve as the swelling tension within the orchestra, and its screeching can be exploited, creating melodramatic horror. In that same way, François Girard's The Red Violin follows the journey of the infamous title instrument as it passes through cinematic clichés with outstanding beauty.

Told in a series of flashbacks and paralleled by a fortune teller's predictions, the film follows a masterfully-created "red" violin as it falls in and out of ownership -- spanning 300 years crossing Italy, France, England, and China. What is first notable about the film is its incredible beauty. Cinematographer Alain Dostie's tracking shots through a crowded market or exceptionally framed still shots, which serve as an establishing motif as they are repeated, mimic the swirling textures of the prized violin itself. While the moving images in the hands of one man soar above the sound of a violin in the hands of many, the story, despite the cleverness of the structure, degrades into nothing more than a divisive heist movie.

The problem lies in trying to create a sweeping epic that showcases 300 years of cultural experiences while maintaining the personal importance the violin means to each owner. Though a couple of the stories accomplish both -- most notably an oversexed English violinist's need to fornicate in order to compose and the obsessive, personal attachment of a little boy to the violin -- much of the narrative bites off more than it can chew. When the violin ends up in China during the 20th century's cultural revolution, the notion that music transcends time and culture doesn't quite hit as hard as it should.

By the time the violin makes its rounds and comes into contact with the curiously-cast Samuel L. Jackson, as a professional appraiser whose detective work discovers the elusive "red violin" about to be auctioned off in present day, the film has degraded into a series of plot devices that are driven by the assumed connection we have with the violin. But we don't have that. At the film's most successful moments, we connect with the characters' desires for the inanimate object and the importance that is projected on to it by them. At its worst, its characters seem driven by an empty desire for a rarity that means little more than a sum of the film's clichés of pretension and melodrama.

Although these shortcomings are hard to forget, The Red Violin is well-paced and it never seems to drag throughout its two-plus hours running time. Girard might have been trying to create a symphony out of a single instrument, but his attempt is still enjoyable on the surface. Lulled by beautiful melodies and breathtaking cinematography, it's hard not to expect more, but easy to push aside expectations for the sake of enjoyment.

The DVD includes a commentary track and two making-of featurettes, with special attention paid to the film's music.

Aka Le Violon Rouge.