Jacques Rivette’s new film, “The Duchess of Langeais,” is an exercise in delayed gratification that may entice the director’s fans, but will leave a few viewers sleeping in their seats when it opens this weekend at IFC Center and Lincoln Plaza.

Mr. Rivette, master of the French nouvelle vague, has kept his latest project (at just over two hours) relatively short, but it is an exercise in patience. Searching for a subject to showcase the talents of his stars, Guillaume Depardieu and Jeanne Balibar, Mr. Rivette chose Honoré de Balzac’s novella of unrequited love (originally titled “Don’t Touch the Axe”). Mr. Rivette’s devoted translation retains much of the novel’s pacing, structure, and dialogue, but his fidelity distances the film from the audience, trapping the action deep within the script.

Imbued with an intense sexuality, the film venerates the space separating two unquenched lovers with nary a sex scene in sight. In its minimalist dialogue and prolonged silences, “The Duchess of Langeais” isolates itself from the beginning. Framing the film with its final scenes at a convent in Spain, Mr. Rivette often leaves his plot points to be communicated through heaving sighs and longing glances.

Beginning at the end of this failed relationship, the director’s singular focus on the tortured romantics often neglects divergent aspects of the story, leaving much of the plot work to explanatory intertitles. Mr. Depardieu plays Armand de Montriveau, a returning hero from the Napoleonic War, who falls deeply for Antoinette, the Duchess of Langeais (Ms. Balibar). The coquettish wife of a conveniently absent husband, Ms. Balibar’s character enjoys the flirtation but thinks herself above marital infidelity, until the general tires of her diversions.

Soon she is equally besotted with Montriveau, and this unconsummated story becomes a battle of wills. Though the duchess first took control with her mastery of the court customs, the retired general soon sweeps past the frivolity of her daily life by ignoring the rules of civility. Then they both lose the controls. The duchess runs to a convent and the general takes to searching the globe to find her again.

The strict rules of court life are hard to comprehend in today’s world of unrepentant passions, and the actors do an excellent job communicating their characters’ unrequited obsessions. It is Ms. Balibar and Mr. Depardieu’s film, and watching them interact is often riveting. That they manage to impart such emotions in this aggressively wrangled story is a testament to their skills and Mr. Rivette’s instincts.

Ms. Balibar has an aristocratic beauty accentuated by a voluptuous costume design. In her bright dresses, velvet-clad and ribbon-tied in front of the court’s maze of backgrounds, she positions herself as a fragile doll ripe for the taking. And yet her dance with Montriveau continues insufferably. Watching the duchess battle her emotions and responsibilities creates an exquisite counterpoint to his brooding intensity. Though they do wonderful things with the impenetrable space between them, the film’s interminable pacing makes it difficult to keep up with their story.

Mr. Rivette, who will turn 80 next week, delights in creating striking shots, bathing his stars in sumptuous fabrics, and leaving emotions unstated. And yet, despite the exquisitely composed scenes and the rewards of repeat viewings, “The Duchess” often stumbles in making a case for itself.

The choices made to create “The Duchess of Langeais” seem as pointed and deliberate as those of its characters, but their sexual frustrations lead to cinematic frustration. It takes a concerted effort to overcome the hurdles the film has erected before one can understand its story. While those willing to put in the effort to get past some of the film’s obliqueness may reap rewards, the incessant teases of “The Duchess of Langeais” may leave others wondering what all the fuss is about.

mkeane@nysun.com