An emotionally dull biopic on Welshman Dylan Thomas, The Edge of Love keeps its distance from the infamous poet and instead focuses on the two women who influenced his life and his writing.
Set in London during WWII, the film stars Keira Knightley as Thomas’ (Matthew Rhys) teen sweetheart, Vera Phillips. A singer by trade – and wouldn’t you know it, Knightley can carry a tune! – Vera and Thomas reunite during a chance encounter in a bar. Yet the insatiable Thomas forgot to mention that he is in fact married with child to eccentric dancer Caitlin (Sienna Miller), who has travelled from Wales to keep tabs on her husband.
Surprisingly, instead of a good ol’ catfight, Vera and Caitlin hit it off, and the trio form something of a love triangle, with Thomas’ attempts at trying to bed Vera never materialising, thanks to Caitlin’s forever watchful eye. Things get even more complicated when Vera begins a relationship with husband to be William (Cillian Murphy), a soldier about to be shipped off to the frontlines. So, if two is company, and three is a crowd, then four is a disaster waiting to happen, and happen it does as jealousy and infidelity reign supreme.
Despite the supposed passion that such material should inspire (the film was written by Knightley’s mother, Sharman MacDonald), what is presented in The Edge of Love is an emotionally void “love” story, which features three cold, distant, and un-likeable characters, who fail to draw the viewers empathy, due to their questionable and immoral actions.
Thomas – who is driven by jealousy, ego, and smug elitism - must be the biggest prick to grace the silver screen so far this year. Only William draws the viewer’s sympathy, yet since he has the least amount of screen time the films emotional balance firmly belongs in lewd territory.
Despite the character of these characters, they are dutifully portrayed to the best of its talented ensemble cast’s ability. Particular menton should be given to the performances by Sienna Miller – who proves that there is a talented actress behind the scandalous gossip – and Keira Knightley, the reigning queen of the period film. Unfortunately for the movie, her presence (combined with the films setting) does evoke the vastly superior Atonement.
The films strength lies in director John Maybury’s (The Jacket) visceral approach to the material. Whether it be the occasional askew slant of the camera, the clash of the vibrant London and dreary Wales settings, or how the pure white puff of cigarette smoke fills the screen, Maybury – along with cinematographer Jonathan Freeman - lend life to an otherwise dreary movie, where emotion should reign supreme, but instead is left teetering on the edge of, not love, but indifference.
