‘Norwegian Wood’ strays too far from book source

“Norwegian Wood” is a confounding film, beginning with this: It’s most likely to appeal to fans of the Haruki Murakami novel on which it’s based, and they’re the least likely to enjoy it.

That’s because “Norwegian” diverges significantly from its source material, flattening the tone (the book is playful and dirty, the movie is languid and scared of sex), removing the humor and pop culture references such as the Beatles song that gives it its title and making the characters tepidly one-note.

It’s difficult to say why director Anh Hung Tran was attracted to this source material because he has altered it so much, but there’s no mistaking that this is his work: Like his “Scent of Green Papaya” and “Cyclo,” “Norwegian Wood” is a visually ravishing tone poem about young people tentatively reaching out to each other.

Toru (Ken’ichi Matsuyama) and the object of his affection, Naoko (Rinko Kikuchi), tell the story via narration and letters read aloud, beginning with the death of a mutual friend that haunts the entire film. Over several years in the ’60s, they lose track of each other and reconnect as Naoko attempts to pull herself out of her grief and Toru drifts into unsatisfying relationships. Ultimately, Naoko is probably not healthy for Toru because she represents a past he may have grown beyond, but he seems reluctant to face the future.

The central metaphor in the book and film is a ragged scarf, jointly knitted by an expert knitter and an amateur.

Learning to take the good with the bad is something all of the film’s young characters are doing, more or less successfully, and it’s also a good lesson for moviegoers.

Tran’s command of mood is second to none. There’s a palpable longing in “Norwegian Wood.” But he also gets too wrapped up in the pining prettiness of it all, dawdling over scenes of weepy grass rippling in the breeze and unsatisfied lovers intertwined. In contrast, the novel races along on an onslaught of jokes, puns and vivid characters. Its best character, a woman who pines for Toru, has gone from bright-eyed in the Murakami to wan in the Tran.

The good news is that Tran is not all about dreamy visuals. There are deeply felt emotions in “Norwegian Wood,” particularly as it nears the end.

Kikuchi is quite moving, and Jonny Greenwood’s achy guitar score is almost as crucial as the one he contributed to “There Will Be Blood.”

Those elements work together to assure us Tran knows exactly what he’s after, even if it’s not what Murakami sought.