Meeting new people always poses a number of problems. There’s obviously the issue of making a good first impression. The most difficult problem, however, is posed by the very real possibility that you won’t like the people you end up meeting—that you are obligated to spend the next few hours with individuals you have no intention of getting to know better. Stephen Frears’s new film “Tamara Drewe” unfortunately forces such a situation onto the viewer, combining a cast of unlikeable characters with a convoluted, unfocused plot that work together to create a largely frustrating viewing experience.

“Tamara Drewe”—in an extreme display of today’s obsession with adaptations—is based on the comic strip by Posy Simmonds, which is itself a modernization of the Thomas Hardy novel “Far from the Madding Crowd”. The film transfers the story to an idyllic British town that is shaken apart by the return of Tamara (Gemma Arterton), coming back home to start a new career in journalism, both with new confidence and, more importantly, a new nose. Tamara draws the attention of Nick (Roger Allam), a philandering author whose home is currently functioning as a writers’ retreat; Andy (Luke Evans), an old friend and flame of Tamara’s who works on Nick’s property; and Ben (Dominic Cooper), a drumming, leather-wearing, earring-sporting bad boy who is in town with his band.

With a premise that already requires a diagram to sort through, Frears’s direction only serves to heighten the feeling of confusion and mayhem throughout the film. At times he is successful in adding a playful charm, poking fun at the story’s absurdity with quick cuts into Jody’s teenage fantasies, or using effects that heighten the lack of realism, such as the occasional split-screen or title card. Unfortunately he displays little of the control he showed in directing “The Queen,” 2006’s Oscar-nominated biopic—whereas in that film he accomplished a fine balance between sharp humor and heavy drama, here his attempts at barely-controlled mayhem give way to a sprawling, convoluted series of romantic and sexual liaisons that seem to have little point other than to show every possible pairing within the cast.

Of course, as primetime soaps prove time and again, watching endless romantic entanglements can be rewarding with engaging characters. Unfortunately, this is precisely what “Tamara Drewe” lacks. The titular Tamara is infuriatingly insensitive, flitting from one suitor to another regardless of the harm she causes, and—most frustratingly—it seems the audience is constantly expected to sympathize with her actions. At one point we see her crying in her car after seeing Andy with another woman while she herself had been seeing Ben, with everything from the muted lighting to a score heavy with melancholic strings indicating that this is a ‘touching moment’.

The one odd exception to this rule is the ever-present character of the British countryside itself. Frears and cinematographer Ben Davis highlight the breathtaking beauty of the Dorset landscape, with the camera framing characters in long shots that emphasize their surroundings, or casting lingering gazes over rolling hills, stone houses, and the simple goings-on of everyday life. These moments act as tiny islands of calm amidst the swirling chaos around them, and one only wishes that Frears could have maintained that sense of control throughout the film’s entirety.

As “Tamara Drewe” careens wildly from partnership to partnership, from love to sex to betrayal all the way to its surreal climax, it is easy to let one’s attention wander, and to begin to question what the point of this exercise was—perhaps how one ended up spending two hours with this group of selfish, libido-driven individuals. But soon enough the film comes to a close, and while the film on the whole may not have been a total waste, it’s pretty clear that “Tamara Drewe,” like so many chance acquaintances, is an encounter you’d just as soon forget.