Emily Dickinson (Cynthia Nixon) was a poet who was more celebrated after she died at age 56 from Wright’s disease. (Why you’d want give your name to an incurable disease is beyond me.) This film, written and directed by Terence Davies, attempts to celebrate her lonely life by making us suffer with her.
The script is stilted and too many lines are pronouncements. It only flows when her poetry is used. Or when Miss Buffam joins her and some wicked banter flies. I would have much preferred a movie about her.
I don’t mind when actors with a background in TV are used. I do mind when the direction is below Tropfest standard. This has to be the worst direction I’ve seen since Days of Our Lives.
Firstly, he has staged the actors as if on a stage. It looked like amatuer hour, except this one as two of them. Secondly, … the long … meaningless … pauses … … that … went … nowhere and … … meant … even less … … were … … maddening. … It was like … there was … … a loooong … pause … … between … … every … goddamn … … clause within … … … every … … line … … of … … … dialogue … . This … nonsense … … could have … …. been an … … hour shorter … … without … … … them.
And to fill them with more posing than a Madonna clip… I wanted to walkout more than 12 times. And still wonder why I didn’t.
The story structure was a mess. Emily apparently had a crush on a local pastor. Their onscreen moment together lasted about two minutes. Her hysterical scene when she hears he left for New Hampshire was far longer and overly melodramatic. It made no sense. There is a scene where her sister-in-law confides she doesn’t dig dudes but is ecstatic at gaining two sisters. And then we never see her again, or at least until the death scene. The meaningless scenes far outnumbered the few good ones. And long painful death scenes shouldn’t make you want to throttle the dying. Maybe the director wanted you to feel every last breath. I hope his career suffers the same painful fate.
I’ll only list Cynthia Nixon, Jennifer Ehle, who played her sister Livvy, and Catherine Bailey as Miss Buffam as escaping with their reputations relatively unscathed. Keith Carradine must need a few bucks and Duncan Duff was godawful.
Emily Dickinson didn’t want to be more honoured in death than in life, but unfortunately, that is what she achieved. It could have been worse… she could have written a film as bad as this and never be remembered at all.
Con’s Score: 1.5 cups of tea
Con Nats Theatre Now & On The Town
