Saturday night, when deluged with stuff to do, I decided to go to an art house movie at the Broadway Theater downtown. (This is symptomatic of my procrastination routine -- I tell myself that I work best under pressure.) Anyway, I decided to see a film called "Bright Star" about the poet John Keats and his first (and only) love, Fanny Brawne. It was a period piece (1818) but grittier than a Merchant-Ivory film with more realistic elements. John Keats had only one set of clothes, for example, and his wealthier friend/benefactor had two. Fanny Brawne was a flirtatious clothes horse / amateur fashion designer, so she had an assortment of nice things to wear of her own creation.
Anyway, I did not particularly like the film. The acting was fine, but as much as they tried, the actors portraying John Keats and Fanny Brawne lacked chemistry. (Note to self: if you're ever casting a love story, capitalize on natural attraction by selecting leading roles in a love film based upon actual attraction.)
I also spent a good part of the film trying to figure out the relationship among various minor characters. Who is related to whom? I probably should have done my homework on John Keats' biography before hand, but that would not have been necessary if the writer/director, Jane Campion, had clarified it at the outset.
On the other hand, some of the scenery was gorgeous, and I do have a better understanding of John Keats. The title comes from a poem he wrote to Fanny Brawne -- she was his 'Bright Star.'
And I have to add that it was much better than "Dead Poets' Society," which came out 20 years ago and really wasn't about dead poets at all. (Was I the only person disappointed about that?! Dead poets are probably a fascinating bunch.)
This is part of his most famous poem, "A Thing of Beauty Is a Joy Forever":
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its lovliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth...
1 comment:
This sounds like it's right up my alley--John Keats has always fascinated me. His illness and also because accounts of him make him sound more moral or at least less debauched than his friends, Shelley and Byron.
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