Around the stove, hugging the cat, singing poetry

Zachary 2022-04-23 07:04:50

bright star. Keats' poems, Fanny's clothes. The heroine, Fanny, likes to make clothes. Almost every few minutes in the play, she has a new set of clothes, which echoes the plot especially. This movie also won the Best Costume Award, which is indeed a very good interpretation of the movie at that time. In addition to the poems, the whole film is very artistic, and the rhythm is very slow. In fact, we all know the ending, but we still enjoy the process. The picture is in a mess. The hostess's family is actually not rich, and Keats is also a pauper, but in the film, everyone sits, sings, plays poetry, and then helps the poet infinitely without asking for anything in return. The heroine's mother is also a great mother, letting her children learn ballet and violin, and letting her daughter marry a poet who has nothing. The picture is beautiful, imagine everyone around the stove, drinking coffee, hugging cats, and reading poems. Keats' poetry, all romance, may fill the gaps in life. In short, this film has a very high artistic value and can give people a lot of inspiration and inspiration.

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Extended Reading
  • Fabian 2022-03-18 09:01:09

    Poetry is born with emotion

  • Kassandra 2022-03-28 09:01:13

    My love you are the bright star.

Bright Star quotes

  • [first lines between major players]

    [general chatter]

    Mrs. Brawne: Hello, Joy.

    Dilke Maid: Hello.

    Mrs. Brawne: Is all well?

    Dilke Maid: Very good, thank you.

  • [last lines before credits]

    Fanny Brawne: [speaking Keat's poem Bright Star] Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art - / Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night / And watching, with eternal lids apart, / Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite, / The moving waters at their priestlike task / Of pure ablution round earth's human shores, / Or gazing on the new soft-fallen masque / Of snow upon the mountains and the moors - / No - yet still stedfast, still unchangeable / Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast, / To feel for ever its soft swell and fall, / Awake for ever in a sweet unrest, / Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath, / And so live ever - or else swoon to death.