So I can readily imagine a bunch of BBC executives sitting in a bedsit in Camden passing the weed and the Jacob's Creek discussing how best to use a considerable amount of money creating a period drama that would appeal to virtually no-one... Success! What we have here is a superficial glance, almost, at the life and love of acclaimed poet Sylvia Plath (Gwyneth Paltrow) and her husband Ted Hughes (Daniel Craig). Anyone with even the vaguest of interests in these two giants of English-language literature cannot help but be disappointed by this shallow depiction of what made this vibrant and destructive dynamic work - or not! At times, it is almost as if the two stars were offering some sort of apologia for daring to make their money in the Marvel or Bond universe by committing to this poorly written, if very good looking, film to beef out their claim to be legitimate thespians. The sex, frequent not graphic, is almost as sterile as the remarkably passion-free dialogue and the occasional contribution from the likes of Michael Gambon and Andrew Cavill can do little to get this out of first gear. There are plenty of actors around who could have focussed more on the subject(s) of the film better but as ever, box office prevails and we are left with something really underwhelming.
