Having already given one historical icon (Nelson Mandela) the cinema treatment this month, Oscar-nominated ‘The Last Station’ brings to the silver screen the story of the later years of celebrated Russian author Leo Tolstoy.

This adaptation of Jay Parini’s novel is about Valentin Bulgatov (James McAvoy), an idealistic young Russian who is devoted to Tolstoy’s (Christopher Plummer) ideology of living without possessions. Once he begins working with the great man, however, he finds Tolstoy himself is in a quandary- on one side his advisor (Paul Giamatti) wants him to give up the copyright to his works, thus freeing it to the public; and on the other his wife Sofya (Helen Mirren), who loves the man, not the legend, and fears this decision will mean the family he leaves behind will be financially destitute. Valentin thus finds himself in the middle of a power struggle, and begins to question whether a life of Tolstoy-inspired abstinence is truly for him.

The story is indeed an intriguing one, but at times moves at a painfully slow pace. Valentin’s personal ‘plot’ does well to stay so universal- he could very well have been a priest with the similar dilemmas and questions (such as can your beliefs be flexible?), although the forbidden romance between him and wild child Masha (Kerry Condon) feels a bit roughly sketched. Of course, the principle plot of Tolstoy’s failing health and the ramifications of his legacy (to choose between his family and how he will be remembered) is the most riveting, raising not only theological questions but modern parallels with celebrity and how mere mortals are turned into gods by those who follow them. That said, there’s an awful lot of historical information to take in, and whilst those familiar with Tolstoy will be free to follow the genuinely engrossing human story, those who aren’t may struggle to keep up.

As one would imagine with so many acting heavyweights the selling point of the film is its cast. McAvoy is all wide-eyed innocence as the protagonist, but also brings some gripping intensity to much of the role. Mirren is perhaps guilty of scenery-chewing at times, but her alone scenes with Plummer are tender and touching. Giamatti is, once again, the sneaky villain of the piece, but he’s so good at it you don’t begrudge him. His character’s blind devotion to making Tolstoy an icon is yet another interesting facet of the movie.

One for history enthusiasts, then. An emotional, superbly acted piece that unfortunately must sacrifice accessibility in order to accurately portray the complex events of the great man’s life.