*Told in an melancholic 3-verse poem form, best enjoyed while lying in a field of wild flowers, staring wistfully across a lake while children frolic in the fields around you*
Hark! What is this? Another film from Jane Campion,
Creator of the achingly dull Piano, alas,
I am unsure my mind can take another two hours or rambling tosh, evermore.
Not so bad though, is this latest paramour,
A biopic of poet John Keats later years and the relationship he shared,
With a small ensemble Campion draws us in.
Ben Whishaw plays Keats as a distracted, odd talent,
All nervous darting eyes and hangdog expressions,
Hard to love but his slow, deliberate reading of his verse well played.
Abbie Cornish as his muse always torn,
She gains our attention but perhaps not our hearts,
As such a slushy over emotional bore she sometimes become.
Heaven thank then, Paul Schneider,
Whose barbed comments and hostility towards Abbie,
Helps give the film a needed jolt out of its continually romantic musings.
Campion frames the film with the necessary air of wistfulness,
Yet several scenes jar, with previous developments left unmentioned,
Creating an occasionally frustrating and torturous narrative.
Perhaps it is a deliberate flaw to represent loves hurdles,
Those who love somewhat preening self indulgent waffle will hold it to their hearts,
But those with cold hearts will no doubt be bored beyond rational thought, evermore.
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