The Duchess

What’s the Story?

Nearly everyone adores Georgiana Cavendish (Keira Knightley), an aristocratic 18th-century "It" girl who, after marrying at the tender age of 17, becomes a sensation for her sense of style and joie de vivre. Everyone, that is, except her husband William, Duke of Devonshire (Ralph Fiennes). Though he cares about her in his own way, he's more enamored of his dogs and is fixated on Georgiana bearing him a male heir. He also has no qualms about bedding other women. In time, Georgiana learns to turn a blind eye to William's extracurricular activities, but when he decides to make Georgiana's best friend, Lady Elizabeth Foster (Hayley Atwell), his mistress, enough is enough. The duchess finally gives into her own yearnings, allowing herself to fall in love with an old friend, politician Charles Grey (Dominic Cooper). But the Duke isn't having it.

Is It Any Good?

Pretty to look at but painful to contemplate, a female royal's life in the 18th century was far from enviable, as THE DUCHESS makes plain. Georgiana's anguished circumstances are highlighted by the perfection of all that surrounds her: her sumptuously decorated homes, her gardens, her jewels, her dresses and tresses. She has everything but love. But the movie, based on Amanda Foreman's biography of Georgiana Cavendish (nee Spencer, an ancestor of none other than Princess Diana, who herself suffered a lackluster marriage), is much more than the tale of a loveless coupling. It asks an important question: How far will a woman go for her children?

Lushly photographed and costumed, THE DUCHESS won't disappoint period-movie fans. But it probably won't stick with them for very long after the credits roll, either. There's a certain superficiality in the storytelling; the history is too light and glossy, and the movie would have been far more enjoyable if it had more heft. (For instance, Georgiana forgives her friend unbelievably quickly; was it really that easy?) Knightley is splendid in the film's peaks -- watch her flirt with her entourage and command a table full of gamblers. But when it hits the valleys (and there are quite a few of them), her agony is hollow, more acting than feeling. Fiennes rules, however: William is reprehensibly cold yet aching for connection. Somehow, he's not stripped of humanity -- even though he sometimes acts like it.