The quality of twee is often strained, the Bard wryly noted.

A tragedy, a comedy or even a romantic comedy is within the reach of some writers and screenwriters. But hitting that feather-weight sweet spot between droll and cute is a rare talent, making “twee” comedies the cinema’s unicorns.

“Waiting for Dalí” circles all around twee and never quite hits the bullseye.

It’s is a period piece romance built on the “Big Night” formula, tested and re-proven over the years since that 1996 film’s release. “Big Night,” set in the ’50s, blended comic obsession with fine Italian cuisine with frustrated ambitions, romantic and otherwise, and helped launch the “foodie” crazy and made creator and co-star Stanley Tucci a famous actor and even more famous culinary expert and wine enthusiast.

The twee hook to that picture was the belief that a restaurant owned and run by two brothers could be rescued by the simple appearance of the famous singer and band leader Louis Prima. One “Big Night,” pulling out all the culinary stops, and they’d be set.

David Pujol’s “Waiting for Dalí” is about a restaurant in 1974 Spain. It’s the end of the represssive Franco era, and young people’s protests have crossed borders and rattled the by-then-wheezing regime.

Alberto (Pol López) has gotten himself mixed up in street marches, which sometimes turn into vandalism and riots. He’s wanted by the corrupt and hidebound Guardia Civil, the Spanish police hellbent on maintaining order until the elderly fascist dictator dies, and beyond.

This attention derails brother Fernando’s (Ivan Massagué of “Pan’s Labyrinth”) plans of becoming head chef at the posh Barcelona fine dining eatery where he works. With the aid of the the culinarily-connected revolutionary pal François (Nicolas Cazalé), they escape to the country, to the coastal Catalan village of Cadaqués.

That’s where the brothers will meet and work for the eccentric, obsessive Jules (José Garcia of “The Take,” a hoot). He’s built and runs a restaurant dedicated to honoring and serving the town’s most famous resident. He’s even named his establishment El Surreal and decorated it with Dalíesque melting clocks, eggs and nude manikins seated at tables or the bar. The place specializes in French cuisine, Dalí’s favorite, with a snobby French chef to ensure the finest quality dishes.

The only problem? The mercurial epicurean Salvador Dalí won’t come. Jules can beg the Catalan chauffeur of the great artist’s Cadillac Sedan DeVille, Arturo (José Ángel Egido) all he wants. But he’ll never get past the true gatekeeper, Dalí’s imperious, insufferably snobbish Russian wife and “protector” Gala (Vicky Peña), doing her best “Soup Nazi”).

Every pleading encounter with her ends with a demand of “10,000 dollars” or “$15,000” for them to dine in El Surreal, and suggestions that Jules become a “fishmerman” (in Spanish and in French, with subtitles) instead.

When Fernando is forced to take over the kitchen of this impossibly impractical restaurant, his experiemental Catalan/French cuisine just might be surreal enough to change Gala’s mind and Jules’ fortunes.

Pujol, who did documentaries on Spanish cuisine and Dalí himself before making this his feature film writing and directing debut, immerses himself in the setting and sets up colorful peripheral characters to provide a possible love interest — Clara Ponsot plays Jules’ pragmatic and earthy daughter Lola, a local diver — and town “character.” Francesc Ferrer plays Tonet, a beloved local art vandal who insists on painting everything blue, even the house and/or works of the eccentric genius Dalí’. The Guardia Civil is always chasing him.

Every little bit helps and every colorful touch is needed because “Waiting for Dalí'” is basically the somewhat insubstantial sum of all these flourishes.

We meet cute characters, but little is done with them. Interior lives and backstories are disregarded. Romance, when it arises, feels abrupt and tacked-on. We revel in extravagant, anachronistically modern cuisine (“foams” and the like). Catalonia was one of the birthplaces of molecular gastronomy, but that didn’t happen under Franco.

But every so often, Jules and his charges hurl themselves into and at Dalí’ — styling their facial hair into elaborate curls, pursuing him and knocking on his door — or standing in his defense, a “surrealist” “sell-out” who shallowly praised Franco’s fascist regime as he flittered to and fro, coasting on artwork that peaked and passed that peak thirty years before.

Some of what’s tossed in the air here pays off, but the whole never quite comes off. I’ll go to any museum, any “Dalí’ and Disney” exhibit, and review any movie about the only surrealist most of us remember. “Waiting for Dalí'” gets by on charm, settings and set-ups. It’s a pity more of those set-ups don’t deliver the “twee” the picture promises.

Rating: 16+, smoking, sexual situations, profanity

Cast: José Garcia, Ivan Massagué, Clara Ponsot,
Nicolas Cazalé, Pol López, Varvara Borodina, Alberto Lozano, Francesc Ferrer and Paco Tous.

Credits: Scripted and directed by David Pujol. A Music Box release on Amazon Prime.

Running time: 1:54