Bright Star (2009, Dir: Jane Campion)

I first saw Ben Whishaw in the television comedy Nathan Barley, as the long-suffering Pingu. He then starred in the lead role in 2006’s Perfume: The Story of A Murderer - a literary adaptation that was accidentally hilarious. Now if you’ve never seen this film before, you really must. It just about happens to be one of the funniest films ever. For all the wrong reasons.

After Perfume..., he turned up as one of the more interesting Bob Dylan characters in I’m Not There. It says something that he shares the spotlight here with Christian Bale, Cate Blanchett, Richard Gere and Heath Ledger. Somebody out there has a lot of faith in him, and rightly so - he’s a bloody good actor.

So it’s a good thing that he’s the lead in Jane Campion’s new film Bright Star. Whishaw plays Keats, famous to his friends but generally an unknown quantity. The film tells of his romance with local seamstress Fanny Brawne (the exquisite Abbie Cornish). If that all sounds as depressing as hell, don’t worry – there’s plenty to enjoy.

I was quite worried myself, when the opening credits played over a close-up of somebody sewing. It was like a nightmare coming true: a period romantic drama, about sewing. So I seriously considered falling asleep. Can you even escape a nightmare by falling asleep? Thankfully, I didn’t have to find out.

From the first scene, Brawne’s relationship with Keats’ best-friend Charles Brown (Paul Schneider) is hilarious. Brown takes every opportunity to snipe at Brawne, whilst Brawne gives as good as she gets with expert retorts. Their interplay alone is enough to make this film watchable, and that’s before you throw Whishaw into the mix.

Even when the two leads fall in love, the film doesn’t drag. Their childlike infatuation with each other – a pairing made impossible due to Keats’ lack of funds and stature – is sweet to watch, and definitely a welcome change from the sickly saccharine romances that usually litter period dramas. Campion’s keen script keeps everything moving along nicely, and she doesn’t mire the dialogue with reams and reams of Oldspeak.

The end of the film (which you can see coming if you know anything about Keats) is a sad thing to watch. Let’s just say that when I left the cinema, I made sure to put my coat on.