Movie review and actor interview: Paul Schneider in Bright Star

by John P. Meyer

One of the fascinating discoveries we make about the 19th century while viewing Jane Campion's atmospheric, elegiac new movie, Bright Star, is that these poor deprived antique folks didn't have access to the internet.

Thus, they had to resort to other means of merrymaking and flirtation, such as glee clubs, dance lessons, and nonsense games, some of which appear absolutely childlike in their naïveté. (What? No anonymous chat rooms?!) And when it comes to intercontinental communication, snail mail's the only way to go. Literally.

Another thing Campion wants to make sure we "get" about these pre-Industrial Age times is how quiet they were, and how rich in leisure was people's leisure time. Which is another way of saying that the film is slow moving. If you're looking for an action-adventure, Mr. Horseman, then by all means pass on by.

However, for those seeking a lushly beautiful, Rembrandt-lit, character-driven tale of tragic love, here's your huckleberry -- ripe for the picking. (All two hours of it.)

If NBC were airing this drama as a series, and then promoting it, they might plaster the words "ripped from the headlines" across the advertising. It's the true (if dramatically embellished) tale of the romance between budding poet John Keats (the excellent Ben Whishaw of Brideshead Revisited and Perfume) and his even more budding girlfriend, Fanny Brawne (the fetching Abbie Cornish, who is particularly fetching in the bodice department, it begs to be said).

Like any self-respecting struggling artist, antique or contemporary, Keats is barely scraping by in the area of finances. He's become partially dependent upon the patronage of his friend, Charles Armitage Brown (Paul Schneider, late of Lars and the Real Girl and -- deep breath here -- The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford), who puts them both up in the country cottage owned (and co-occupied) by the Brawne family.

Fanny, who enjoys a certain local celebrity for her dressmaking prowess, against all odds establishes a rapport with the ethereal Keats. It's on this score that Fanny and Brown come to loggerheads: he sees her as an unseemly distraction in the path of his talented associate, and a rival for his friendship; she looks upon Brown as a petty, selfish, tyrannical impediment to her closer association with the passionate poet.

And passionate Keats indeed becomes, falling for his landlord's daughter with the total lack of reservation typical of the kind of tortured artist who rather relishes that whole tortured aspect of things.

After a festive Christmas dinner around the Yule fire, and once the elder folk have retired to their beds, Keats and Fanny linger in the common room, drinking each other in with their eyes. When their hands touch, it's the 21st century equivalent of R-rated simulated sex. Minus the simulated.

The advent of spring -- with its wild blossoming and rampant procreative posturing by birds, bees and butterflies -- only magnifies the young lovers' lustful (yet tastefully restrained) devotion to each other. They kiss among the bullrushes, leaving poor young Toots (Edie Martin, as Fanny's toddler-aged sister) to fend for herself amongst the dandelions. Or something.

Did I mention this was a tale of TRAGIC love? I think I did. Which leads us to the emotionally troubling final reel of the film, in which Keats has journeyed overseas to "take the airs" of a more salubrious clime. He and Fanny pine for each other; they pine enormously. She creates a butterfly hatchery in her bedroom, he -- well -- writes poetry and such. When the saddest of possible sad news reaches the Brawne cottage not long after, the lamentations of the women (Kerry Fox as Mrs. Brawne; young Toots; and, of course, Fanny) reach epic proportions.

I cried, too. And I'm man enough to admit it.

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A group of film reviewers met with actor Paul Schneider at the Crescent Court in Dallas a few weeks before the North Texas theatrical release of Bright Star. As noted, Schneider plays the complicating character in the film, Charles Armitage Brown. While by no means evil -- even referring to him as despicable would be a stretch -- Brown certainly qualifies as the villain of the piece.

Given that he's supposed to be a pretentious literary dilettante and speak in a British accent, how tough was it for a guy from Asheville, NC to play the role? Listen in to find out.

Here are highlights of our discussion:

* Schneider tells how his first trip to Dallas was an exciting one, and how his current one found him jogging through the streets of downtown at night.

* "I just start the clock and then it hurts until the clock says stop." - re. his exercise routine

* The role of The Piano -- and Eddie Murphy -- in Schneider's acting career.

* How he hooked up professionally with Jane Campion.

* "And the books come and they're like really long ..." - his grand designs on doing voluminous research for a role.

* "Fear is a great motivator."

* "I thought: 'I need to step it up a little bit and not just do something I already know how to do."

* Accent coaches, both domestic and foreign.

* On Jane Campion and what he learned from her (Hint: fearless filmmaking).

* "I don't relate to superheroes; I don't read comic books." - re. the decline of indie filmmaking and the rise of the big-money film franchises

* "What am I supposed to do besides keep watching Frontline and America's Funniest Home Videos?"

* "I never saw a movie that illustrates more how insane it feels to fall in love when you're that age."

* "If ever there's a time in our country's history that we need a massage, it's now -- and Bright Star is this really beautiful massage."

* His read on why Brown got off on such a bad foot with Fanny.

* Jane Campion sent Ben Whishaw and him to the Lake District, where they stayed together at a bed & breakfast in order to cultivate the friendship that they later acted out in the movie.

* They took a trip to Wordsworth's house -- a poetic pilgrimage.

* "Ben gets recognized and I acted like his personal assistant."

* "And that's when I started thinking about how Ringo might have felt when Yoko started hanging around ..."

* When friendships feel threatened: "He's screwed if he loses Keats."

* "I try not to get involved with movies that suck."