Why does one "enjoy" a movie?

Why does one watch movies? What are you getting out of sitting there in the dark, staring at a big screen full of flickering light, with swelling music and sound effects?  Can a movie with a terrible plot but earnest and lively actors still have something to recommend it? Can a film with outstanding dialog but ill-fitting costumes be worth your $10?

Mater and I watched Bright Star tonight. Bright Star is writer-director Jane Campion's latest film, a lush retelling of the doomed romance between John Keats (who died in Italy at 25) and his non-poetic neighbor Fanny Brawne (the link is to Keats, actually).  As an aunt wrote to me, it is slow, arguably uninvolving, and deep in mumbled Brits accents -- she walked out of the theatre half way through. We did not (we had subtitles, by the way).  Mater indicated at the end that she thought it slow, overly poetically filmed ("lots of scenes of children running through flowers") but there was a sweet love story at the center of it that made the film worthwhile.

I can't say I loved the film overall, but I found many things to enjoy for two hours. Contrary to Mater, I found the "sweet love story" to be tiresome and over-dramatic. Rather, I thought the characters were rather over-dramatic, like a pair of 18-year-olds in love for the first time.  Which is what they were portraying.  It was slow, but not quite slow enough -- there were long, loving camera caresses of textiles that ended too soon (because Fanny Brawne was interested in sewing and designed all her own clothes).

When I see this poster of the movie, I want to push aside those reaching lips and get a closer look at the pleating in the rust-colored dress she's wearing.  In one scene, when they are pledging their love to each other (again), just before Keats is to depart for Italy, I was severely distracted by the lovely dark brown shine on the folds of the dress she was wearing, and frustrated that there wasn't a better angle to see the embroidered sash tied at her back.

I loved that in the early parts of the film, the clothes she's wearing seem over-bright and to call attention to themselves, as if the designer (Fanny) was trying to -- well, call attention to herself.  Later on, when she's (sigh) in love (sigh) her clothes settle down too, less about her, and more about them.  The dress pictured above left -- ivory with a triple mushroom ruffle, as the character points out, with counter-matching lavender gloves..! (early scene)

This amazing "sweater" sewed from tiny crocheted diamonds is from a later scene.

Just a money shot, for those of us who love the costumes more than the story. She has great shoes and interesting hats, and I'd swear that all her clothes -- if not all the clothes in the movie -- were hand-sewn.

 

And it's not just the clothes.  This curtain is a 10-foot (or taller) panel of natural linen, with a 3 inch hem at the bottom, giving it weight and a visual border, too.

And I can't forget to mention that there are several Keats poems recited throughout, which was lovely to hear. Lovely to swim in the language of Keats, like floating in the textures of the clothing.  (To be honest, I'm not a fan of the Romantic Poets -- can't figure out all the classical allusions or even what the heck they're talking about, but if you give yourself up to the flow of the sound, they are beautiful.)

[The DVD is a bust for extras, though.  One interview with Campion, broken into thankfully three short featurettes -- one of which mentions that Janet Patterson did all the costumes and the sets, and that she was obsessive about trying to get contemporary patterns and fabrics. Not a single closeup of the costumes or the fabrics, nor a discussion about where she got the materials.]