A Quiet Passion, film review: Portrait of a poet who can’t be captured

This portrait of American poet Emily Dickinson is at times perplexing, but moments are emotionally astounding, says Charlotte O'Sullivan
Charlotte O'Sullivan21 November 2017

​Famous celibate Terence Davies is scintillatingly bitter on the subject of beauty: “I’m not good-looking. Nobody was interested when I was young.” It’s surely no coincidence that in Davies’s biopic of Emily Dickinson (played by Sex and the City’s Cynthia Nixon) the privileged, pioneering poet is driven to distraction by her homely physique and never so much as hugged by a significant other.

Davies has created Dickinson in his own image. Or, rather, he’s exaggerated everything about her that reminds him of himself. If this film was a poem it might go something like this: “Nobody loves my body/ Who are you? Does nobody love your body, too?”

Also perplexing is the crude, soapy portrayal of Dickinson’s best friends. The real Dickinson had a life-long relationship with Susan Huntington Gilbert (her sister-in-law), a former maths teacher who read and critiqued virtually all of Dickinson’s poems, as well as inspiring a whole lot of love — “I must make a hospital for the hopelessly insane and chain myself up there,” wrote Emily, “so I won’t injure you.”

Has any of that intensity made it into the film? Nope. As Susan, poor Jodhi May spends most of her time crying or gazing at the floor. This gal’s so wet she all but squelches.

Poetry fan: Cynthia Nixon, left, as Emily Dickinson, and Jennifer Ehle as her sister Vinnie

Meanwhile, Emily hangs on the words of naughty teacher Vryling Wilder Buffum (Catherine Bailey). Davies is on record as saying he found Sex and the City repulsive. How ironic that Emily’s BFs resemble pale shadows of Charlotte and Samantha.

Yet I’d still recommend this period drama to anyone who upon hearing the words “bubble cool” thinks yum! Both Nixon and Emma Bell (as the young Emily) are ferociously sympathetic, and the moment where one morphs into the other is both technically and emotionally astounding.

The transformation happens during a photography session and it’s telling that the only member of the family to escape time’s pummelling is Emily’s pent-up mum (Joanna Bacon, superb). This matriarch seems to exist in a universe of her own. Her daughter tries to pin down essence (the 360-degree pan of an oppressively peaceful drawing room gives a lovely sense of how Emily’s brain sees). But, via the mother, we’re reminded that some things can’t be captured.

Davies’s images are eloquent (note how the turquoise window-shutters of her home match Dickinson’s flashing eyes — she and the building are one). Set pieces concerning the ill and dying move with an audacious rhythm too. Yes, siree. When Davies and his muse are on the same page, he cuts a real dash.

Cert 12A, 125 mins

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