Collette. Film Review.

Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating

Cast: Keira Knightley, Fiona Shaw, Dominic West, Eleanor Tomlinson, Jake Graf, Rebecca Root, Robert Pugh, Julian Wadham, Sloan Thompson, Arabella Weir, Mate Haumann, Ray Panthaki, Al Weaver, Virag Barany, Dickie Beau, Kylie Watt, Janine Harouni, Joe Geary, Aiysha, Denise Gough, Shannon Tarbet.

The voice of the lost author, the ghost writer, the one who lends their talent to a less than able conjurer of words is often overlooked by history because they are held in a manner of bondage, the current term of such branded captivity is that it is good for exposure, that the remuneration received is surely enough; whatever way you look upon it, regardless of the gender of the person involved, it amounts to the same thing, a literary captivity, the suppression of acknowledgement, of gilded slavery.

We take it as a symbol of creative law that anyone with such talent and spirit should pay their dues, and this for the most part is true, you hone your talent, you pick out what drives you and make it yours, and in time your name will come to mean something, an inspiration to others, or to bring you the whims and desires that have gnawed at your soul since you first discovered you had an aptitude for the process you have undertaken.

Perhaps it is slightly easier today, there are more avenues in which to open your life to, and if that is the case, then we owe a large debt of thanks to Sidonie-Gabrielle Collette, a woman whose voice was taken from her, and he fought to have her achievements, her loves and life placed against her name.

Regardless of whether you have read any French literature or indeed know anything about this former country girl turned extraordinary woman, what the audience receives in payment for their time watching the film Collette is the understanding that we have a duty to care for the words we write, we must own each word, sample the delight it gives us and the adventures that the sentence carried is weighted upon our own efforts, never once allowing someone else to take the credit, even for all the money in the world.

It is in this message, and in the performances of Dominic West as Collette’s larger than life husband, Henry Gauthier-Villars, Eleanor Tomlinson as Collette’s American lover Georgie Raoul-Duval and Denise Gough as the love of Colette’s life, Mathilde de Morny, affectionately known by her nickname of Missy, that Collette works as a film, as a piece of advice translated to the modern age; and despite some aspects of the film not working to the fullest of the sought after effect, it nevertheless carries the argument well.

A film of creative freedom, that espouses the need for all artists to stand up and be counted where it matters, in the respect of ownership.

Ian D. Hall