Adapted from Margaret Laurence's Manitoba-set novel, which apparently all of Canada read in 12th-grade English, The Stone Angel has an air of excessive reverence about it, in spite of the filmmaker's boast (in the press notes) that the book has been tarted up for the screen. There's some sexy, yes, but the cinematography is meticulous and lovely, the nostalgia for sturdy prairie values undisguised. Unfortunately, every scrap of grim present-day narrative and flashback from the book seems to have been retained. There's no time to fit everything in gracefully, and the movie is littered with jerky transitions between eras.

Ellen Burstyn plays Hagar Shipley, a cantankerous old lady who doesn't want to go into a nursing home; it's a good thing Burstyn is so charismatic, otherwise the scenes with her pigheaded son (Dylan Baker) would feel endless. Every so often—after mother, son, and daughter-in-law have badgered each other sufficiently—we're treated to an abrupt flashback, in which the younger Hagar (the excellent Christine Horne, who looks credibly like Burstyn) flirts with boys, rebels against her snobby merchant father, and marries a randy cowboy (Cole Hauser) who drinks too much and consorts with Indians. Juno's Ellen Page has what amounts to a cameo, later in the story, as a privileged hippie who dares to date one of Hagar's sons.

Tragedy arrives in fits and starts, and it's strangely difficult to get invested in Hagar's emotional life. (Come to think of it, the name "Hagar" might have something to do with it.) Still, there's always something (or someone) attractive to look at: Watching The Stone Angel is not a chore. And the ending is pure, classy melodrama—it's totally overblown, and nothing less than satisfying.