directed by Jane Campion (2009)

There’s a reason some people find the state of contemporary romance films dull, trite, and unwatchable, and for the most part, I’m one of those people. But in the hands of master filmmaker Jane Campion (whose best work is still the bloody skinemax-tastic In the Cut), the tired and staid genre is given fresh life with Bright Star.

Quiet energy radiates from the impressive cast: the beautifully fey and almost disturbingly rail thin Ben Whishaw as poet John Keats and the refreshingly non rail thin, spirited and (please forgive me Reese) quite pretty Abbie Cornish as the love of his life, Fanny Brawne. Filling out the cast – to my complete surprise – was Paul Schneider as fellow poet Charles Armitage Brown, whom you might recognize as Mark Brendanawicz from Parks and Recreation.

So many historical films feel like little more than tight-lipped actors in big costumes pontificating in period accents on museum sets, but there’s a lived-in, natural feel to the settings and the incredible clothing (multi buckle flats and three tiered ruffle collars, please make a come back!) of Bright Star. But don’t get me wrong, Campion’s vision of the period is characteristically stylized and visually romanticized. Crisp white curtains billow with spring breezes from every window, exquisitely serene and simple bedrooms look like paintings of dignified restraint, every garden is overgrown with the most sumptuous wildflowers.

Her signature touch elevates the sometimes slow (it’s just way too long) but sometimes heart-twitteringly romantic (couldn’t help but get flushed watching the first kiss) tale of love and heartbreak that’s been told in some way or another a million times (guess who’s going to die? The one that went out in the cold and came back with a cough!).

Click here to see the rest of Bright Star

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As a social reformer, Jeremy Bentham was the shit. He was, according to Wikipedia, “in favour of individual and economic freedom, the separation of church and state, freedom of expression, equal rights for women, the end of slavery, the abolition of physical punishment (including that of children), the right to divorce, free trade, usury, and the decriminalization of homosexual acts. He also made two distinct attempts during his life to critique the death penalty”.

If that weren’t achievement in awesomeness enough, the man donated his body to science then had himself stuffed with hay for display. His own, real head was, for a time, on display below his body (it was unable to be permanently attached to the body) but it was the source of too many college pranks to remain accessible.

While the name Jeremy Bentham is familiar to those familiar with Lost (it’s the name Locke traveled under after leaving the island) I was actually introduced to the man, his philosophies and his unique after death requests through a philosophy lecture that aired on PBS.

You may not think it, from his hoodlum roles past,?but Ray Winstone makes a brilliant Henry VIII in this most entertaining television miniseries from a few years back. It's an oft told and adapted tale, but this production which also features a great performance from Helena Bonham Carter as Anne Boleyn is the best I have seen.

Angry reviewers, and there always will be angry reviewers online cry with outrage at the lack of historical correctness, on which I can't comment, but if you are not using this as a history lesson and merely want to be entertained, enjoy.

The concept of the Dark Ages, a time when mankind actually reverted – forgetting the advances of one of the most advances civilizations in history, has always been fascinating and mystifying to me.

Sadly, most History Channel series that I've tried to watch fail to quench my curiosity regarding historical events, but The Dark Ages was not disappointing. Neither dry nor too jazzed up and hip-ified, their collection of experts and recreations offer an insightful exposition on the time of plagues and superstition.

The series is available on netflix on demand.

It's very odd that I never saw The Age of Innocence before: it came out when I was sixteen, an age at which I'd watch anything new (particularly something new by Martin Scorsese) and particularly something romantic, but most curiously, I adored Michelle Pfieffer (as you'll read in this week's style icon section), she was a kind of childhood idol of mine, strangely enough.

Still, it was not until this weekend that I actually saw the adaptation of Edith Wharton's classic tortured romance thwarted by social codes. With Saul Bass's excellent budding flowers on lace introduction, it was easy for me to settle into the mood.

Pfieffer, I'm happy to report, has almost never looked as radiant and Daniel Day Lewis is absolutely smoldering. Even Noni is cast well (which is rare) as a bright faced, simple women to whom women's emancipation is unfathomable. The rest of the cast is equally perfect and includes some of my favorite character actors like Jonathan Pryce, Richard E. Grant and Sian Phillips (who you might recognize from a far juicier role in the fantastic I, Claudius).

The gentile New York City of the late nineteenth century is impeccably presented by Scorsese and all of its finery. Shot of exterior sets (the mansion by Central Park is mind blowing), interiors (drool over the rarely used ballroom), and food, food food are an opulent feast for the eyes (see a photo essay of all the food in the movie I put together here).

The stifling social codes may be the things of modern women's nightmare, but there's some appeal to the diamond crusted archery brooches, white gloves worn at dinner, petit fours, and drawing rooms stuffed with brocades, gold and paintings of cheetahs.

Despite the long running time, I still found it to be sweepingly romantic, but be wary of watching it with those who are not fans of historical romance; this was one of the few movies Jim and I have disagreed on.

The Suspicions of Mr Wicher is a true crime tale centered on the real life mysterious murder of a young boy. Like the JonBenet Ramsey case of its time, the crime mesmerized and rocked the nation. It was speculated about in the media and everyone within the home's walls was a suspect.

Mr. Wicher was a fairly renowned detective at a time when detectives were a new concept, seen as part supernatural genius, part shaman or – when the tides of popular sentiment turned against them – as voyeuristic intruders into the highly guarded personal lives of respected society.

The book is most interesting when it handles the crime itself and the suspicions, not only of Mr. Wicher, but the townsfolk and media. It's a bit less engaging in the latter bits that detail what happened to all the players. One son grows up to be a famous botanist, etc… I guess I'm living proof that the salacious intrigue of the evil men do is always most compelling, just as it was when this murder took place.

Unlike the similar crime in Boulder, this one has a conclusion and a confession, which is led up to with some suspense by Summerscale, whose short resume also includes a biography of an eccentric world-class speedboat racer and heiress (The Queen of Whale Cay).

This book is a perfect pair to this week's TV show, A Most Mysterious Murder.

Widely considered one of the best miniseries ever made. The cast is amazing, including John Hurt as Caligula (that alone should entice you to watch). Jim and I watched all thirteen episodes in one weekend. Shot without locations on sound stages, all on video no less, it still puts HBO's extremely expensive Rome to shame. This page has a ton of clips.

I am pretty sure Ben Franklin was way more fun. But Hamilton has smoldering good looks. He also laid the groundwork for our economic system, was a staunch opponent of slavery and died in a duel.
A duel! How hot is that?