“Underscoring everything is the notion of memory.” So writes Jeremy Brock, the director of the new big-screen version of Evelyn Waugh’s celebrated novel Brideshead Revisited. This facet is conveyed in the cue of that title by composer Adrian Johnston in an uncanny way with the opening rise and fall of the melancholy clarinet music projecting light and shade at the same moment. The ambivalent nature of this music which recurs throughout the score takes us to the heart of this tale of self-discovery by the three protagonists, Sebastian, Charles and Julia. Sebastian has a theme of his own, an artless piano exercise that opens the disc and reappears as the story unfolds. Johnston handles the yearning, romantic theme running through the film with discretion, holding back until passions are fanned.

“Guilt”, “Faith” and “Desire”, titles one would expect in the context of this story, are sombre in tone, though some may find the “Faith” allusion to the Tallis Fantasia a shade disconcerting. The “Venice” sequence is beautifully written and imaginatively scored, a triptych of a lazy afternoon on a gondola with the ripple of water, sun and shade followed by the masks, assignations and plots afoot of “Carnival”, caught in dance. Other cues exhibit sensitive brush strokes: the dreamlike “That First Visit”, the impressionistic “Rex” and the cheerful outdoor gait of town and gown in “Oxford”. There’s a nice touch in the period pastiche of “Wise Old Wine” where Grappelli and Reinhardt are recalled as if from a ’78.

The orchestral playing under Terry Davies catches the air of languor in the music so well and there are well deserved credits for the contributions on violin, cello, guitar and piano. It’s a fine achievement and one that can hold its head alongside Geoffrey Burgon’s benchmark score for the Granada TV series from 1981.