“If it’s not Baroque, don’t fix it.”

Those immortal words, uttered in jest by Cogsworth, the talking clock in the 1991 animated Beauty and the Beast, during a guided tour of his master’s castle, are largely heeded by director Bill Condon for this ravishing live-action remake, writes Damon Smith.

The charm, sweetness, romance, infectious songs and rumbustious humour of the original – Disney’s finest hand-drawn animation – have been lovingly polished by screenwriters Stephen Chbosky and Evan Spiliotopoulos.

They embellish perfection with original flourishes to set this tale apart from its predecessor, including melancholic flashbacks and a curious interlude of time travel that confirms the grim fate of Belle’s mother.

A few favourite moments, which work beautifully in animation have been lost in translation, including Gaston’s virtuoso egg juggling and Belle’s serenade to a flock of sheep. Verses of the Oscar-winning songbook composed by Alan Menken with lyrics by Howard Ashman have been nipped and tucked, then heightened with lush orchestration.

Three new ballads by Menken and lyricist Tim Rice sit handsomely in this musical including a soaring lament of longing for the Beast entitled Evermore that swoons, “I let her steal into my melancholy heart/ It’s more than I can bear.” Us too.

Belle (Emma Watson) rebuffs the amorous advances of Gaston (Luke Evans), who wonders how he’ll know when he is in love.

“You’ll feel nauseous!” retorts manservant Le Fou (Josh Gad). Before Gaston can find out, Belle trades places with her inventor father Maurice (Kevin Kline) as eternal prisoner of an accursed Beast (Dan Stevens) in his crumbling stronghold.

With stunning production design, this Beauty and the Beast doesn’t quite scale the dizzy heights of its predecessor, but comes close.