PBS’ new ‘Doctor Zhivago’ lacks magic of 1965 classic

“Masterpiece Theatre” host Russell Baker describes Boris Pasternak’s 1957 novel “Doctor Zhivago” as a story resembling a Grimm fairy tale, in which innocents get lost in the woods and confront monsters in human form.

It is precisely that fairy-tale sense of magic and mystery that made David Lean’s 1965 film version of the novel so memorable. Unfortunately, it is missing from “Masterpiece Theatre’s” remake of the deeply emotional love story of poet-surgeon Yuri Zhivago and the passionate Lara, told against the backdrop of the Russian Revolution. (It begins Sunday at 9 p.m. on KCET, concluding Nov. 9.)

Zhivago is married to Tonya, for whom he feels a love born of long friendship and loyalty, but he cannot resist Lara, his soul mate and muse. Lara, meanwhile, is married to the ruthless Red Army leader Strelnikov and is relentlessly pursued by the dastardly Victor Komarovsky, who seduced her in her youth. War and revolution repeatedly separate and reunite the characters over the course of decades.

It is impossible to judge this 2002 version without comparing it to Lean’s masterful version, and the modern retelling comes up short at every turn. Screenwriter Andrew Davies, who has written more than a dozen fine scripts for “Masterpiece Theatre,” said television allowed the opportunity to explore the novel’s relationships in more depth. But somehow the makers of the new version manage to do much less with more time (the new version clocks in at over four hours).

One problem is the casting. While Hans Matheson (“Mists of Avalon”) and Keira Knightley (“Bend It Like Beckham,” “Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl”) are exceptionally good-looking actors, as angst-ridden lovers Yuri Zhivago and Lara Antipova they lack both the individual charisma and intense interpersonal chemistry of film players Omar Sharif and Julie Christie. The added sex scenes only make the story seem more sordid rather than more romantic.

Another letdown is Ludovico Einaudi’s new score. The Oscar-winning film score by Maurice Jarre, with its memorable use of the Russian folk instrument the balalaika, was at times wistful and haunting, then soaring with exuberance. While Einaudi’s score incorporates some Russian folk elements, for the most part it is your typical schmaltzy instrumental.

Instead of the intense polemic on love and life of the novel and the beloved film, PBS viewers are forced to settle for a rather pedestrian tale of garden-variety infidelity.