Sometimes the final credits define the experience of a film and of its audience. So this is it-turn off your lap top and go to a show. But these visuals merely reflect the beauty within, the soul of this film: the love affair of Miss Brawne and Mister Keats. Observing writers practicing their craft is really boring. After all the love affair isn't everything about him. John Keats, the most intensely romantic of the Romantic poets although Shelley and Lord Byron did their best could not have received a fairer treatment, plus he was superbly acted by Ben Whislaw; I fell in love with the entire cast. This film lives up to its potential, and if you know anything about the life of Keats, you realize that it is a Titanic sort of plot, because the ship must go down.
The cast has the unenviable task of fighting a very poorly constructed script, and they do an enviable job. I was especially surprised by Whishaw and Schneider, whom I have seen in a few other roles that have no comparison to the ones they play here Whishaw in Perfume: A Story of Murder and I'm Not There, and Schneider in Elizabethtown and Lars and the Real Girl. There are many minutes where hardly anything happens. I liked a lot of things in Jane Campion's last film. The actors were relatively unknown to me. He's getting in the way of romantic love! Go research the true nature of the relationship.
The dance scenes, social gatherings, and the change of seasons really gave the film life. So, a disclaimer: I am female. But other obstacles face the couple, including their eventual overwhelming passion for each other clouding their view of what the other does, Mr. And why did she put so much camera focus on the children, while giving them nothing to do, nothing to say, and no real vital presence in the story line? Well, they were quite long for me by the end of the film. I recommend this to those seeking a good film with romance, poetry, beautiful images and scenery, and those who are not afraid or embarrassed to cry a little it's kind of a chick-flick in that regard. The subject matter is naturally interesting.
Keats, she decides to read his published work. Browne far more interesting than her mooning over Mr. An 8 page insert in Vanity Fair got me jazzed to see a movie about a poet I had mooned over in college. Ward and Jakoby are summoned to attend a disturbance and they stumble upon a Shield of Light safe-house where they arrest the elf Tikka and bag her magic wand. Drag your husband, significant other and everyone you know to see this film!! The obtrusively vulgar Brown serves in stark contrast to the gentlemanly Keats, whose integrity and will Brown deeply admires but cannot quite live up to in his own life, while Brawne's loving family--woven seamlessly into the storyline through their presence in scenes of playfully benevolent games, strolls, and dinner-parties-- serves as foil to the equally loving yet singularly feisty Brawne. I was mesmerized from the beginning to the end of this great film.
There's a delightful litte rosy-cheeked girl, and good use is made of cats. This is a great movie experience because it is so gentle, simple and direct-no stunts-no noise-no robots-just a piece of history recreated with tenderness and poetic truth. Jane Campion, the Director, brought the period to life. This was quite a disappointing film, despite the hype. I think I'll go back and see it again.
More specifically, we examine the relationship between Fanny Brawne and John Keats, one of the major poets of the Romantic movement. Anything that is introduced is dealt with immediately, and then you move on to the next item, so there is no sense of structure, dramatic tension or story arc. Yet my sadness was only that I have to live in the current world so dominated by name brands and nonsense rather than the fine stitchery and wit of Fanny Brawne. You'll have have a great time relaxing. Just saw this at the Ritz East. Although he agrees to teach her about poetry, Keats cannot act on his reciprocated feelings for Fanny, since as a struggling poet he has no money to support a wife. Campion doesn't get too much in the way of our own imagining.
But this sadness does not--it cannot-- abide if one recalls Keats' own poetic words to Brawne from an early love letter , which encapsulate the film's essence: passionate love for this wondrous world and one's 'Bright Star' in it. The two slowly but surely start a love affair that will consume both of them entirely, but alas Keats feels that his lack of income makes him not the marrying type. Who can ever forget a tangled Holly Hunter drowning with a piano? Brown redeems himself later when, having gotten the sweet Irish servant girl Abigail Antonia Campbell-Hughes with child, he does the right thing and marries her. He fell in love with Fanny Brawne, and she with him. But Bright Star is not a fairytale in that empty sense; for the fact is Keats died at the age of 25, and he and Brawne were anything but mindless. Through brilliant, stunning visuals and intelligent, witty dialogue, Jane Campion's Bright Star celebrates the rapture of passionate love. Rich 19th-century fabrics and breathtaking English scenery make Bright Star a sensuous pleasure to experience.
Fanny's mother says she can't marry Keats, because he has no money, but he proposes, and she accepts, and when the liebestod begins, there's no way of denying his happiness or Fanny's, or the sadness and devotion that made her wear the gold engagement band for the rest of her life. When she too becomes distracted by Mr. You'd think he was a spoilt brat pretending to live the life of an occasional letter writer, in a well lit, airy rural setting, with Brawne depicted like the 21st Century prick-tease that chimes more with modern day sentimentality. Their work is hopelessly unphotogenic. There is no sense of the character's relationships to each other and I did not believe that there was any spark of true love between the two main protagonists! Ben Whishaw, who plays Keats, and Abbie Cornish, in a rather lifeless performance as Brawne, are good at moping around but not much else. It's just not easy to explain to someone else what you don't understand yourself. The facts of Keats' short, intensely lived and very disappointing life are compelling.