TORONTO -- While her resume has included such acclaimed films as "Angry Harvest," "Europa Europa" and "The Secret Garden," director Agnieszka Holland's more recent output has been considerably spotty.

Unfortunately, her newest film, "Copying Beethoven," won't constitute a return to form.

Centered around an imagined working relationship between the mercurial maestro and a young female aspiring composer who becomes his music copyist during the last years of his life, the picture never successfully comes off the written page.

It isn't for lack of trying. An initially unrecognizable Ed Harris, complete with dark contacts and that wild composer hair, puts some of that "Pollock" volatility to effective use here, while Holland tries various ways to give his symphonies some visual oomph.

But it ultimately feels forced - a wannabe "Amadeus."

Although Harris' performance is certain to be given a big awards push once a distributor is secured, the film itself will probably only strike a minor chord with viewers.

Set in 1824, the U.K.-Hungary co-production catches up with the great Ludwig van B. on the eve of the Vienna premiere of his Ninth Symphony. With several key parts still to be transcribed, he avails himself of the copying skills of a 23-year-old conservatory student named Anna Holtz (Diane Kruger).

Undaunted by the deaf composer's fearful reputation, the ambitious Holtz accepts the challenge head-on, eventually winning her master's begrudging respect, and even his admiration.

The only trouble is, the Holtz character, as penned by Christopher Wilkinson and Stephen J. Rivele ("Nixon," "Ali") is a composite of several real-life figures (none of whom was a female copyist), and she never feels like anything other than a writer's device.

It doesn't help that Kruger goes through all the machinations but fails to convey her character's driving passion, and without it there's just no necessary spark being ignited between them.

Although she fares better with Beethoven than she did chasing Rimbaud and Paul Verlaine in 1995's ill-fated "Total Eclipse," Holland's attempts to sell the subject matter to the MTV generation with quick cutting and incorporating a twirling hand-held camera (perhaps emulating the movement of a conductor's baton?) finally comes across as all a bit too, ahem, orchestrated.