‘I shall astonish you all,’ announces Julie Christie’s Bathsheba, as she breezes into the 1967 adaption of Thomas Hardy’s classic, Far from the Madding Crowd.

And so Christie sets about delivering on that promise, alongside acting heavyweight Terence Stamp as the repugnant Frank, Peter Finch as the spurned and psychotic lover Mr Boldwood and Alan Bates as Bathsheba’s Tim Nice-But-Dim love interest, Gabriel Oak. This band of mismatched characters spend the next three-and-a-half hours misunderstanding each other, having awkward conversations and only meeting in places that offer stunning panoramic views of the Dorset countryside. Its five star depressiveness rating makes it characteristically Hardy, but somehow it all feels rather like a Richard Curtis film set against the backdrop of bleak 19th century rural England.

Granted, there are astonishing features. The famous scene in which Gabriel’s sheepdog suddenly decides to drive his entire flock of sheep over a clifftop is harrowing even now and offers a unique kind of tension rarely seen in new releases. The film’s most striking moments, however – the violent climax of Mr Boldwood’s near deranged state and the eventual emotional disarmament of Bathsheba, who lets her guard down by cracking open a coffin – though they are certainly extraordinary, all take place in the last half-hour, the attention span of the audience having wilted long ago.

This film is raw. It is wholly unapologetic for its unhurried pace, demanding of its audience’s attention and deliberate with its slowly unfolding plot. But it is this deliberation which makes it so unsuitable for 21st century audiences, and so in need of its upcoming facelift; we simply do not have the time to watch three hours of hapless characters running through fields and opening and closing doors. But its educational value, its place in the archives of film history, makes it a must watch for any film lover. They may not enjoy it, but they’ll be glad they’ve seen it.