Though not without problems, this attempt to contrive a modern version of a Tracy-Hepburn comedy, set at a ritzy prep school, works well enough to merit a low pass—if not honors. And while Clive Owen and Juliette Binoche don’t match the charisma of the iconic Hollywood pairing (who could?), under director Fred Schepisi’s practiced hand the swings in their characters’ relationship do provide the basis for a certain awkward charm between them.

Owen plays Jack Marcus, a famous poet who’s taught for years at Croyden, an elite New England private school. He’s a bundle of energy in the classroom, challenging his students—often quite rudely—to read deeply, trying to nurture in them a genuine appreciation of the ability of great writing to portray the essence of reality and express the most profound existential truths. He also presides over the publication of an annual literary review, where his own work was once regularly featured. But he hasn’t written for it (or anywhere else) in a long while, and has become a functioning alcoholic, even embarrassing the school in a few drunken public episodes. It’s no surprise that he’s estranged from his college-age son, or that his job is in jeopardy, with even the tolerant headmaster (Navid Negahban) and the dominant member of the board (a woman with whom he’s had a romantic relationship played by Amy Brenneman) warning him that he’s on thin ice. He responds by assuring them that he has a major poem in the works that will grace the next issue of the review, the fate of which is also in question.

Understandably Marcus’ reputation among his colleagues is variable—with some, like Walt (Bruce Davison), amused by his antics but others decidedly hostile to him. Diana Delasanto (Binoche), a newcomer to the faculty, is initially among the latter. She’s a noted painter hired mid-term to teach honors art, but her own career is being stymied by rheumatoid arthritis, which makes it increasingly painful for her to work. In the classroom, however, she’s as passionate about her subject as Marcus is about his—and as opinionated about the power of her field. Before long a debate flares up between them between whether literature or art is the more potent means of expression, drawing in their students as well.

Of course as they bicker and spar, an attraction develops. It’s not an easy romantic path, because her affliction grows worse, as does his alcoholism, which leads to a destructive accident in her studio. Nor is that the whole of Marcus’ problems: his desperation to write something worthwhile for the magazine leads him to an act of plagiarism that has personal consequences as well as professional ones.

Scripter Gerard DiPego has set up an intriguing intellectual confrontation here, and has given both leads plenty of sharp lines to deliver, not only in their banter toward one another but in the diatribes they direct toward their students. Unfortunately, some of the other material is less successful, especially the scenes portraying Marcus’ descent (an awkward sequence in a bar, another involving drinks and tennis balls that even Owen can’t carry off). There’s also a subplot about a student (Valerie Tian) being harassed by a classmate that’s not only far too strident, but constructed so as to add some heavy-handed emphasis to the words-picture theme.

Nevertheless the leads are in fine form. Their scenes together are models of timing, and individually they earn honors as well. Owen, who can sometimes seem unduly reserved, has the chance to act out ferociously, and he grabs it. His classroom rants might not be entirely credible, but he carries off the raging monologues with aplomb, and even if some of his other scenes lack dramatic punch, it’s the fault of the writing, not him. Binoche manages the difficult assignment of convincing us that she’s truly disabled, and gets across Delasanto’s both her anger over her condition and her underlying vulnerability quite impressively. The fact that the actress actually did the paintings ascribed to her character is also a remarkable feat; they’re very good. The rest of the cast don’t match the stars, and some of the youngsters playing students come across a bit amateurishly, but overall the level of support is solid, and the film is technically proficient, with Patrizia Von Brandenstein’s production design especially noteworthy, though there’s nothing wrong with Ian Baker’s cinematography.

“Words and Pictures” aims to be a romantic comedy with ideas, and despite some stumbles it’s definitely smarter than the average romcom, helped to no end by its stars. Though it’s neither as beguiling as it would like nor as intellectually sophisticated as it hopes, on balance its virtues outweigh its flaws, earning it a passing grade.