Fiery Female In Fancy Frocks Can Mean Only One Thing ...

I love British costume dramas, historical reads and Keira Knightley - in other words, The Duchess was tailor-made for me. Alas, life conspired to prevent me from seeing the Sept. 19 release until Nov. 1, when my parents came to take care of me as I was recuperating from my calf injury. I could see The Duchess' shortcomings (I felt as if I received a tasting menu, not a full-course meal, of Georgiana's life), yet I really liked the movie.

Then I read the book on which The Duchess is based. It's great. For better or worse, it also made me realize how much the flick missed. I still recommend the film, thanks in part to my girl Keira, but my passion is a little dented.

Although The Duchess may seem like a biopic of Princess Diana, it is in fact about her great-great-great-great aunt, Georgiana (Keira Knightley). Diana and Georgiana each married remote men they had to share, adored their children, committed themselves to fashion and politics, and received excessive press coverage. The Duchess features an absorbing story and the highlights of British costume drama (clothes, wigs, manors); it works best, though, as an acting showcase for Knightley and Ralph Fiennes as the Duke of Cavendish.

Director Saul Dibb uses Amanda Foreman’s 1998 biography of Georgiana to depict a world of sumptuous costumes and scenery, fiery government affairs and romantic entanglements, which means leaving too much of his subject’s life on the cutting-room floor. In 1774, Cavendish chooses 17-year-old Georgiana as his bride, hoping she quickly will produce a male heir. Instead, she has miscarriages and two daughters, she overshadows him in public, and bitter feelings arise. Both move on to other partners: him to her best friend Bess (Hayley Atwell), her years later to future prime minister (and tea namesake) Charles Grey (Dominic Cooper). The former pairing leads to an unusual arrangement (Georgiana refers to the Duke as “our husband” around Bess), the latter a heartbreaking decision.

Knightley excels at conveying Georgiana’s move from mirth to maudlin. Early on, she’s all divine merriment, recalling the giddiness of Pride and Prejudice as she frolics and flirts. Such early liveliness makes the screams of a woman raped by her husband more disturbing, and circumstances align to snuff the joy out of Georgiana, muting Knightley’s usual vivacity.

Fiennes finds humanity in his monstrous Duke. Thanks to Fiennes’ gawky movements and stiff intonations, we come to view the Duke as an awkward creature, incapable of affection for anything besides his dogs. Perhaps it’s the pressure of duty that makes him so; he gazes enviously on children at play and relaxes only when he’s showing Bess’ sons how to shoot. Fiennes has made villain types compelling in the past (Schindler’s List), and that background aids him in creating shading in the Duke.

Dibb touches upon some of Georgiana’s drinking and betting foibles, depicting her reaching for wine at parties and playing games of chance more than one would expect from a proper lady. Alas, the script, which Dibb co-wrote, truncates Georgiana’s life in favor of a love and lust focus: We never learn the depth of her gambling addiction, nor of her talents as a writer or scientist. It manipulates the facts for dramatic effect, aging the Duke (the real age difference was nine years; 23 separate Knightley and Fiennes), making Grey younger (Georgiana was seven years older than him, not his contemporary), and all but ignoring the American and French revolutions.

That Knightley and Fiennes manage to bring multiple dimensions to their characters despite The Duchess’ shortcomings as a film adaptation is a tribute to their performances. Read the book or see the movie? In the case of The Duchess, do both.