There are films that a lot of people think they know, but have never really seen. David Lean’s ‘Brief Encounter’ is certainly a good example. Most people can tell you the plot, a doomed romance conducted at a railway station. Others will tell you there’s a bit when the train’s moving off and someone’s running to keep up (there, er, isn’t). Some people can even tell you that Noel Coward wrote it. It’s one of those films like Citizen Kane, where you can feel that the critics have watched it just so that you don’t have to.

I was surprised, then, at how much of a gem it really was. The film opens at the station, where the bulk of the action takes place. A guard hops over the tracks (a more devil may care time) and strolls into the cafe.

Once in there, he begins some cheery banter with the manager. Just as this is becoming irredeemably dull, the camera pulls out to reveal a middle-aged couple, sat at a table looking glum. They instantly become the focus of our attention, although we will not be introduced to them properly for some time.

This is the crux of the whole film. Through a dazzling screenplay and superb cinematography, we are constantly presented with people talking rubbish about trains, the weather and cups of tea. Lean and Coward appear to leave it to the viewer to decide what’s important. We know that something significant is happening with the man’s pat on the shoulder, and as we’re only human we have a pretty good idea what’s going on.

In this film of manners gone mad, where a man and a woman can only disclose their passion in maddeningly tiny increments, how do we really know what’s important and what isn’t? Through sly filmmaker skill, our eye is directed throughout. Variations in lighting levels and careful positioning of objects in front of the camera can draw the audience’s attention without them even realising. It’s a subtle subliminal approach that Lean takes – it just doesn’t happen in major films now, with contemporary film-makers more likely to convey significance through editing and dialogue. Each approach is equally valid really, but Brief Encounter’s method just feels more sophisticated and respectful to the audience, somehow, although in reality it’s hugely manipulative.

The narrative also runs in a massively interesting fashion. We don’t understand exactly what’s happening between this curiously intense couple on the opening scene, and that’s because we’ve arrive halfway through. All the smouldering glances and clipped lines are gradually explained as Laura tries to think how she can explain her relationship with Alec to her husband. Most of the film passes in flashback, gradually making sense of those opening moments, with occasionally shocking results.

The flashback is also introduced in extremely flashy style for 40s cinema, Laura’s living room gradually cross-fades to the railway station as she watches from her couch.

This is a wonderfully made film, I can’t stress this enough. There is the highest attention to all areas of the production and the performances are superb, repressed passion oozing from the two leads.

But there’s a problem, as always. To modern eyes, the film looks like a museum piece. Steam trains, telephones the size of computers and everyone speaks as though they’ve just run out of finishing school. With ancient cars and organ players in the cinema auditorium, it’s clear that we are looking at a different age.

And, really, this wouldn’t normally be a problem. We’re mature, film’s been around for more than 100 years now. But this isn’t just a quaint comedy of manners, Lean and Coward have a MESSAGE to impart.

Yes, the middle classes are coming in for another pounding. While Laura and Alec are being terribly stoic about their doomed affair, still the working classes are enjoying themselves in uncomplicated fashion, as shown by the burgeoning relationship between the station master and the lady who runs the cafe. Laura and Alec feel ever so special as a doomed romance, but really they’re being terribly melodramatic and self-important. The parallel relationship highlights the relativity of moral values, but mostly it pokes fun at the pretension of the two leads, Laura is constantly terrified that her relationship will be exposed, but they’re constantly being spotted by Laura’s friends, who simply don’t care what she’s up to.

Another thing I found interesting was the husband. This isn’t a ‘trapped in a loveless marriage’ scenario. Laura’s husband is constantly depicted as attentive, kind and loving. He may be a bit dull, but so is she. Laura has the financial and personal freedom to do pretty much whatever she likes, and the fact that her two kids are a bit noisy in the evenings hardly disguises the fact she’s an adulterous tramp.

Brief Encounter, for all its occasional quaintness, is a deeply engaging character study as well as a doomed romance. It pokes gentle fun at middle-class obsessions with decorum and discretion, while celebrating the very British habit of articulating the most powerful and passionate emotions through mundane comments about train timetables and the weather. Much more than just another footnote classic in cinema history.

Ah yes, I watched this on DVD, but I have to confess the DVD in question came free with the Mail on Sunday, bundled with the Ipcress File (random or what?). As such there were no special features, but then after all this time, what can you add to a classic film like this? As it's been given away free by papers, however, I'd advise you not to spend much money on this film...