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osprey_archerI am fond of biopics. (I never did get around to writing my reviews of Kinsey or J. Edgar. Possibly I should correct this.) Therefore I decided to watch Byron, which stars Jonny Lee Miller as, well, Byron.
It occurred to me, most belatedly, that given my general aversion to Byronic heroes, I probably should have avoided Byron himself. Because my goodness, he is excellent at wallowing in self-pity. He leaves behind him a trail of misery and woe, and then to shouts to the heavens “I never hurt anyone!”
Except Lady Caro Lamb. And Claire Clairmont. And Annabella Milbanke, his poor wife. On their wedding night, he’s all, “We never should have gotten married! I’m evil!” I mean really, Byron, you are not even trying to make this work.
On a more general artistic note, irrespective of Byron's irritating qualities, the pacing in this is borked. The filmmakers needed to focus more on the story they wanted to tell about Byron, rather than trying to shove his entire life into three hours, because there’s just too much to get it all in such a short time span.
So we get quite a lot of Annabella, and also quite a bit of Augusta, Byron’s half-sister with whom he had an incestuous relationship; a little Caro Lamb - a very little Claire Clairmont - a dollop of Percy Shelley, and even less Mary Shelley. I guess they didn’t want to compete with the 1988 film that’s all about Byron and the Shelleys, although that film is supposed to be terrible so really, COMPETE AWAY.
It ends up feeling episodic and unfocused. Poor Byron. Much as this biopic made me dislike him, he deserves a better movie - something as excellent as Keats got in Bright Star. Although unlike Bright Star in every conceivable way, except that of being excellent.
It occurred to me, most belatedly, that given my general aversion to Byronic heroes, I probably should have avoided Byron himself. Because my goodness, he is excellent at wallowing in self-pity. He leaves behind him a trail of misery and woe, and then to shouts to the heavens “I never hurt anyone!”
Except Lady Caro Lamb. And Claire Clairmont. And Annabella Milbanke, his poor wife. On their wedding night, he’s all, “We never should have gotten married! I’m evil!” I mean really, Byron, you are not even trying to make this work.
On a more general artistic note, irrespective of Byron's irritating qualities, the pacing in this is borked. The filmmakers needed to focus more on the story they wanted to tell about Byron, rather than trying to shove his entire life into three hours, because there’s just too much to get it all in such a short time span.
So we get quite a lot of Annabella, and also quite a bit of Augusta, Byron’s half-sister with whom he had an incestuous relationship; a little Caro Lamb - a very little Claire Clairmont - a dollop of Percy Shelley, and even less Mary Shelley. I guess they didn’t want to compete with the 1988 film that’s all about Byron and the Shelleys, although that film is supposed to be terrible so really, COMPETE AWAY.
It ends up feeling episodic and unfocused. Poor Byron. Much as this biopic made me dislike him, he deserves a better movie - something as excellent as Keats got in Bright Star. Although unlike Bright Star in every conceivable way, except that of being excellent.
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Date: 2013-09-16 06:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-09-16 12:35 pm (UTC)