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Charlotte Gray had both the credentials and the post-Christmas release date of a traditional Oscar hopeful. Not only was it a World War II/Holocaust drama sprinkled with romance and intrigue, starring a recent Oscar nominee (Cate Blanchett), but the director (Gillian Armstrong) was known for her finesse with female-oriented material (Little Women). None of this helped Charlotte Gray reach a wide audience, and it utterly failed to register. Never less than stately and competent, the film suffers from a lack of clarity in both the plot and the performances. Charlotte's narrative function as a spy is even harder to pinpoint than Billy Crudup's indifferent French accent. Blanchett herself is incapable of being bad, but she bears the weight of Armstrong's overly emotional directing style, which whips numerous scenes into angst-ridden frenzies, often without justification. Armstrong's intended epic sweep is born out by the cinematography and the faithful attention to period design. But her adaptation of Sebastian Faulks' novel owes too much to wartime romances like The English Patient and The End of the Affair, without carrying the weight or distinction to join their rank. Armstrong believes that war naturally engenders heroes and lends grandeur to each desperate human action. She forgets that universal acclaim is not so easy to come by for historical melodramas -- especially when they lack the ring of truth.