Sarah Polley is in good form in this romantic weepy about facing premature death. However, thanks to writer-director Isabel Coixet's studious efforts to avoid the maudlin or depressing, the story falls so neatly into place it rings hollow.

The film starts by asking that old playground question: 'What would you do if you were told you were going to die?' Anne (Polley), a young, working woman with two sweet little girls, is diagnosed with ovarian cancer and given just weeks to live. After getting over the initial shock, she decides to keep the news of her impending death to herself, and makes up a list of things she must do before she dies, including having an affair.

It's an odd decision, and one that never gets satisfactorily explained. If her husband (Scott Speedman) were a more inadequate or unattractive character you might understand. But the only criticism that can be really levelled at him is that he can't put the bread on the table, forcing her to work nights as a cleaner. Otherwise he seems to be the perfect husband - tender, sensitive and loving to both Anne and the girls. The dark stranger from the laundrette (Mark Ruffalo), who Anne jumps in the sack with, is not a great deal different in character - a little more eccentric, erudite and well-travelled - but another quiet, sensitive type.

With only weeks to spare, starting an extra-marital romance - "affair" is probably too ugly a word to describe the relationship depicted here - would surely complicate one's precious last minutes beyond belief. It seems so selfish, although in other respects Anne comes off as being quite self-sacrificing. On her last-things-to-do list are recording birthday messages for her daughters, setting up her husband and an unhappy co-worker and reconciling herself with her world-weary mum (a chain-smoking Deborah Harry fitting the bill perfectly).

The script doesn't offer great scope for nuances or deeper questioning of Anne's surprising behaviour and even Polley's versatile performance is unable to fill the emotional void.

In its favour, Polley is highly watchable going through her turns from flirtatious to distraught, even if the nagging question about her motivations for the affair are left hanging. The guy parts are romantic fodder, although Julian Richings in a minor role of an imperfect doctor adds a welcome touch of eccentricity.

Coixet's film also glosses over Anne's physical suffering at the end. But then why let cancer get in the way of a good story?