In the Welsh town of Port Talbot in 1942, a young lad with a love of drama shows promise at school – promise that catches the attention of kindly teacher Philip Burton (Toby Jones), who sees potential in the youth. His name is Richard Jenkins (Harry Lawtey) and while he and all his working-class contemporaries may seem destined for lives working down the mines, being sent to war, or simply working in a shop, his fate is actually something brighter. He will become one of the greatest actors of his generation, known to the world as Richard Burton. While he may not know that, audiences settling down to watch the film are already aware he's heading for greatness, so the drama comes less from “Will he, or won't he?” and more from “How did he?” and “Why did he take his teacher's surname?”

Leaving aside the eventual Hollywood name that the protagonist will become, the story rigidly clings to the time-honoured movie framework of small-town person with dreams of more, taken under the wing of a kindly mentor who puts them through a series of seemingly-odd training scenarios to expand their mind and their abilities, encountering many setbacks and obstacles to overcome – both external and psychological, then the hero's lowest moment before all the training and belief from their mentor come to fruition in a final act where they discover they truly are the chosen one. From Luke Skywalker to Eliza Doolittle, from Neo Billy Elliot, it's a trope so familiar that none of it feels fresh here. The beats are dutifully hit in the order we expect, with accompanying score to underline the moments where our hearts are supposed to swell with emotion.

The 40's period detail in the production design of Mr Burton is spot-on, with the feeling of the larger war looming large over the small Welsh town. Also looming large over the town is an enormous glut of mediocre CGI in the background of every. single. landscape. Perhaps the production got a special deal on a bundle of graphics of mines and chimneys belching smoke, but effect of virtually every static shot of a street scene surrounded by masses of background computer generated images only serves to remind audiences that this is not real.

With class and the inevitability of one's destiny a theme, Jenkins works hard under the guidance of Burton, setting tongues wagging and curtains twitching about the appropriateness of the relationship. To counter this, Burton becomes Jenkins legal guardian, hence the lad adopting the name that was to become known worldwide. There are scenes of The Kings Speech-style vocal exercises to train the young actors voice, set on the hills overlooking the town. When Jenkins screams at the top of his lungs across the valley, it's clear he's not only training but yelling in frustration at the place he wants desperately to leave, too.

With pacing an issue, everything builds to a performance 8 years later when he's feeling the pressure of being “one of the most promising actors in the country”. Like his father before him, he drinks like a fish to deal with his demons. It's an inspirational story, in the tradition of My Fair Lady and The Kings Speech, but without the fun of the first or the stakes of the latter. Toby Jones is clearly one of Britain's most watchable actors and Harry Lawtey does a fine job taking the character from voice-cracking schoolboy to richly-baritone thespian, but the languid slow pace drags. The period detail is very fine and a rousing score lifts the mood and sometimes has the hairs standing up, but it's doing a lot of the heavy lifting and so deliberately placed to tell the viewer “FEEL SOMETHING NOW” that it occasionally jars. The later fame of the main character adds a dash more interest, but this is otherwise a familiar story, familiarly told.