A fun, sexy romp about the last days of Leo Tolstoy? Believe it. Leo and Sofya Tolstoy were the Brangelina of their day, celebrity superstars whose turbulent relationship was the stuff of breathless media coverage. "The Last Station" is lighthearted, dramatic, romantic and full of bawdy humor, with terrific roles for Christopher Plummer as the charming, irascible genius and Helen Mirren as his loving, highly combustible wife. It's a love-hate relationship for the books.

It's a tossup who is the more long-suffering spouse in writer/director Michael Hoffman's lively period piece. Tolstoy was the greatest novelist in western literature, Russia's most acclaimed celebrity. He was a 19th-century limousine liberal -- a nobleman, attended by servants in a magnificent mansion, but who wore peasant smocks and deplored social inequality.

"Our privilege revolts me," he declares. He advocated pacifism, vegetarianism, charity and sexual abstinence, attracting countless disciples who regarded him with near-religious reverence. As his health faltered, he prepared to give away his fortune "to the Russian people, as their birthright." Plummer makes the man a beguiling mix of philosopher, crank and kindly grandfather.

Mirren's haughty Countess Sofya, his wife of 50 years, is all noblesse and no oblige. She relishes wealth, enjoys sex (Sofya bore him 12 children) and throws samovar-smashing fits over her husband's desire to give away their family legacy. She copied out his multiple manuscripts for "War and Peace" and "Anna Karenina" -- no one else could decipher his scribbles -- and considered herself a full partner in their creation. She disdained the serfs her husband idealized. Presiding over a china-and-white-linens picnic luncheon, she explains why the muzjiks live in poverty. "They have no willpower. And they drink too much."

Plummer and Mirren brawl hammer and tongs. He rails at her, she jumps into a lake in a diva display of faux-suicidal rage, yet somehow they wind up in bed roaring with laughter and tenderly forgetting about all that celibacy nonsense. The film is witty and whimsical about the inevitable collision of ideals with love, friendship and family relations.

When the film focuses on these two titans, it's irresistibly engaging. It's the elegant byplay between the stars that makes it work. Observe the generous way they feed each other lines. If either played too aggressively they'd come off as self-righteous villains. Instead they're dazzling egotists on a seesaw, giving the audience a great time.

The film loses steam in scenes concerning Tolstoy's chief acolyte Chertkov (mustache-twirling Paul Giamatti). The schemer wants Tolstoy to rewrite his will before ill health puts his estate in the hands of the grasping Sofya. James McAvoy plays Valentin, a wide-eyed Tolstoyan sent to be the great man's secretary and transcribe his utterances. "Write down everything you see," Chertkov tells Valentin, significantly repeating, "everything."

The starstruck stenographer, who doesn't suspect he's being sent to his idol as a spy, does his best to impress Tolstoy. He claims he's read "War and Peace" repeatedly. After a skeptical glance, he reduces that to "twice." For much of the film, we are looking over Valentin's shoulder as he tries to match his actions to his hero's ideals. Things become hilariously difficult around Masha (Kerry Condon), a nubile, self-confident Tolstoyan who follows the precepts that suit her and rejects the rest.

"The Last Station" is beautifully filmed, with rural eastern Germany doubling for Russia. The costumes are the last word in bohemian chic and Sergey Yevtushenko's melodious score complements the story's comedy and pathos. But it's the ferocious grand opera of Plummer and Mirren that makes the film such fun.

Colin Covert • 612-673-7186