Dir. Saul Dibb
Starring: Keira Knightley, Ralph Fiennes
Grade: B
“The Duchess” starts off promisingly enough. Young G (short for Georgiana) is with her friends on the grounds of a sumptuous estate so common to romantic British period films. G is the leader of the pack, and the obvious target of attraction by one of the young men preparing for a race. G passes around a hat to the other ladies, and each one pulls out a piece of paper with a particular boy’s name. G informs the aforementioned young man (Charles Grey, played by the hapless Dominic Cooper) that she has bet on him to win, which, of course, he does. The crispness of the green grass, blue sky and the freedom of youth can only mean one thing – young love is in the air, and therefore, something wicked this way comes.
And like clockwork, there is William Cavendish, fifth Duke of Devonshire (played by a wonderfully sinister Fiennes), surveying the scene from inside the estate. Or should I say surveying his soon-to-be property, since Cavendish is entering into a deal with G’s mother Lady Spencer (played by the regal Charlotte Rampling) to make G his new bride. Lady Spencer guarantees that G has the goods and will surely give him a male heir. Informed of the transaction later that day, G is surprised – she’s only met the Duke twice before, he couldn’t possibly love her. Of course, whether G herself loves the Duke does not even enter into the equation.
The match having been made – a quick wedding ceremony and a public coming out follow. The public adores their new Duchess, she is young (but sixteen when the Duke takes her as his wife) and has a unique style. I’m hopeless when it comes to fashion, so all I noticed were the gargantuan hats. There is one particular exchange to this point that I found interesting. During their wedding night, the Duke, as he’s undressing G (equipped with scissors!) comments that he could never understand women’s complicated dresses. G explains that it’s their only way to express themselves, as opposed to men, who have several avenues for self-expression. After that, the Duke finds yet another way to express himself as he makes love to his child bride – it is a repellant scene and one that sets the tone for the rest of the surprisingly bleak film.
The rest of the narrative deals with G’s attempts (and failures) to birth a male heir as well as the Duke’s multiple infidelities and emotional distance (he is kinder and more attentive to his dogs than he is to poor G) which deepen the wedges of the arranged marriage. G withdraws from her husband, becoming the darling of society in the process. She meets Bess Foster (played outstandingly by Hayley Atwell), a mother of three who has been victimized by her estranged husband. G and Bess forge a strong bond of friendship (and perhaps more, or at least as much is suggested). Somewhat gullibly, G figures out a way for Bess to move into the Devonshire estate. It is this decision which throws the film into an inevitable, fatal detour into “telenovela” territory – a road paved in histrionics, romantic hokum (courtesy of Charles Grey’s return), and even a wig engulfed in flames (this being the unintentionally hilarious highlight of the film for me).
Which is a shame since the film could have been a strong statement about the condition of women in 18th century aristocracy. It could have also been a great vehicle for Knightley, who even here, proves that she is a top-rate actor and more than capable of carrying an entire film on her seemingly frail shoulders. Instead, we have a conventional, technically adept, but emotionally vacant romantic biography that is neither romantic nor biographical, but rather a mishmash of ideas and set-pieces that say absolutely nothing that has not already been said more eloquently and movingly dozens of times before.
