The Duchess

Today I saw The Duchess, starring Keira Knightley and Ralph Fiennes.

Note: this review does contain spoilers.

Based on British history, the film tells the story of the former 18th century Duchess of Devonshire, Georgiana (Knightley), who is coincidentally an ancestor to our modern-day Princess Diana of Wales.

Unfortunately, their blood was not the only thing these two women had in common.

They both had spunky, outspoken personalities; they both married young into the British Monarchy with every sincerity and hope for a loving union; and they both were cheated on, controlled, lied to and forced to remain in situations that made them miserable—the only difference is that Diana eventually got out.

The Duchess is a well-done exploration of Georgiana's sad life from the time she was married until the time of her eventual complacency to the husband (Fiennes) who was never good to her.

An excitable teenager when first joined together, Georgiana's biggest problems were that her husband didn't "talk" to her and intercourse was mere sex; not the lovemaking she craved.

After two daughters and two stillborn sons, the Duke was growing impatient waiting for an heir and had taken a lover in Georgiana's best (and only) friend Bess (Hayley Atwell). Although "G" (as they called her), had looked away at the Duke's countless other affairs, this one pained her greatly and she expressed her anger at the betrayal, only to be met with indifference on his part. After taking G by force, the Duke finally got his wish and produced a male heir.

The mistress, genuinely caring for her former friend, arranged for the real object of G's affection, politician Charles Grey (Dominic Cooper), to reunite with her—and reunite they did. They also produced a child, daughter Eliza, which the Duke forced the Duchess to surrender to Grey's family.

Throughout this film, the performances are delivered expertly by all actors, not least of whom is Knightley herself—this is a role that feels as if it was tailor made for her, and after watching her, it's hard to picture anyone else pulling it off quite as well. Fiennes, as always is brilliant and Atwell as the conflicted Lady Elizabeth, is pitch perfect, commanding both sympathy and rage at her actions.

The real problems are plenty and scandalous, but at the end of it all, the Duke and the Duchess faced something that millions of people throughout time have faced: a loveless marriage. As the mother of the Duchess says at the beginning of the film, true love is identified instantly—it's a feeling you get that you can't escape.

The sad thing is that when you deny this magic, and gamble your own fate by doing what society (or merely your partner) feels is "right," you're most certainly going to lose. And lose Georgiana did.

It almost makes you feel guilty enjoying the film so much.

Atonement

Today I saw Atonement, starring Keira Knightley and James McAvoy.

This film has all the hallmarks of a Best Picture candidate: attractive stars, solid acting, sweeping landscapes, love, war, betrayal and dueling sisters. But what it lacked, was the 'it' factor that takes the characters to another (necessary) level.

In the story we briefly see Cecilia (Knightley) fall in love/lust with Robbie (McAvoy). Their chemistry isn't electric enough for the audience to feel the jolt of their passion, but their intentions are explained in a letter intercepted by Cecilia's mischievous younger sister Briony (played by three different actresses, to demonstrate each age).

Briony, also a budding writer, uses the letter and a glimpse of consensual intercourse that she interrupts, as her basis for pinning a rape on Robbie, though she knows he's not guilty. It seems she was jealous of his affection for her sister and would've liked him for herself.

This selfish action costs Robbie his freedom and Cecilia years of misery as she pines for him. It also eats away at the older Briony, who wrestles with coming forward to right her catastrophic wrong.

In the middle, we see Robbie go to war and both sisters become nurses. This is the part of the film that nearly put me to sleep. Maybe I'm an unabashed romantic, but couldn't there have been some steamy scenes of them fantasizing about one another? Couldn't we witness more correspondence between the two, or at least see more of the agonizing ways they passed time during their separation?

I believed that the younger sister really did want to atone for her sins, but I wasn't entirely convinced that a soldier and a nurse, a great distance apart from each other, were going to stay so true to their hearts. And I certainly wanted to.

At the core of the story is a beautiful message: true love is worth waiting for no matter what the cost in time.

This ending leaves pessimists satisfied that the lies added up to ultimate heartbreak; the romantics will believe their characters passed in succession so they could find harmony on the other side.

A great love story this is not, but at least it leaves us pondering.