The Edge of Love Blu-ray delivers great video and audio in this enjoyable Blu-ray release
In the bohemian underground of World War II London, a stirring love story ignites among
legendary poet Dylan Thomas (Matthew Rhys, TV's Brothers and Sisters) and the two
extraordinary women who inspire him. Sienna Miller (Casanova) is Caitlin, Thomas' free-
spirited wife, while Keira Knightley (Atonement) is Vera, the long-lost teenage sweetheart who
later reconnects with Thomas. Despite their romantic rivalry, the two women form a
surprisingly close bond. The trio is unusually blissful until Vera's husband, a handsome soldier
(Cillian Murphy, Girl with a Pearl Earring), sends their uninhibited lives spiraling out of control.
For all that I love it, I have no trouble saying that poetry, as a relevant art form, is on its florid
deathbed. When was the last time a short-form wordsmith loomed large in the national
consciousness? Where are the T.S. Eliots and Sylvia Plaths of the 21st century? The Edge of
Love's portrayal of Welsh bard Dylan Thomas may just have the answer: poets killed poetry.
Selfish and self-aggrandizing, Dylan Thomas demands to be treated like God's mouthpiece, all while
cavorting childishly, drinking until it seems logical to piss all over the floor, and sleeping around
behind his wife's back because, in his words, "I'm a poet, who feeds off of life." Is it any
wonder then that your average man on the street can't tell a villanelle from a double
dactyl? Easy to memorize and recite, poetry had once been enjoyed by all, but as its
complexities spiraled ever higher into the ivory towers of academia, some of its creators descended
the evolutionary ladder in pursuit of their baser instincts. And now, no one cares. The Edge of
Love suffers a similar fate. While its period piece aesthetic is lush and authentic, the characters
are mostly cold, remote and unlikable, leaving us with no one to root for and little to love.
This is about the happiest the film gets.
I'm beginning to think that Kiera Knightley only goes after period roles. Between Pride and
Prejudice, The Duchess, and Atonement, Knightley has proven to be a
regular time traveler, and The Edge of Love finds her as Vera Phillips, a singer in 1940's
London, crooning in a bomb shelter cabaret while V-1 rockets rain terror on the streets above. By
chance she meets up with former lover Dylan Thomas (Matthew Rhys), who has whiled away the
wartime writing British propaganda films. There's a spark of rekindled passion, but it's quickly
dampened by the presence of Dylan's wife, Caitlin (Sienna Miller). The two women become fast
friends, however, and Vera finds a new hunk of burning love in William Killick (Cillian Murphy), a
doe-eyed soldier who marries her before shipping off to fight in Greece. In William's absence, the
love triangle becomes alarmingly acute, and his jealousies upon return are only compounded by
post-traumatic stress and the fact that Vera has been using his war pay to support Dylan and
Caitlin's living expenses. Affairs are hidden, backs are stabbed, and the ménage a
quatre's bohemian rhapsody teeters precariously on the edge of love.
At first glance, the film has all the makings of a year-end award winner. It's gorgeously shot,
offers a new take on the often cumbersome WWII drama, and features two sultry leading ladies
who, despite screenwriter Sharman Macdonald's claims to the contrary, seem to have a friendship
that could easily collapse into the Sapphic. The actors all give strong, believable performances.
Matthew Rhys embodies Dylan Thomas' childlike glee with a winking sense of verbal wickedness.
Cillian's William woos Vera with dogged English charm, and then comes back from the war a stoic
and broken man. Both men eye one another with distrust and mutual disdain. They smolder and
sulk on the sidelines, however, as The Edge of Love belongs undoubtedly to its female
leads. Kiera Knightley is apt at playing that obscure object of desire, flirting around her and
Dylan's past indiscretions and playing muse with an innocent, unobtainable air. Sienna Miller,
then, as a woman whose husband's attentions are drifting, is at turns wounded and stiff-lipped,
turning in some of the best acting of her career. The relationship between the two women is the
focus here, and the sacrifice of their friendship is the film's core tragedy.
So, if the acting is wonderful and the film is beautifully shot, what's the problem? I remember
going to see Sophia Coppola's Marie Antoinette a few years back and feeling that because
it dealt with such a frou-frou historical figure, the film ended up as the cinematic equivalent of
cotton candy—a sugary treat that dissolved into nothing the moment it was ingested. The
Edge of Love is similar, but far more bitter than sweet. It's no fault of the actors that they're
playing real-life characters who were often loutish and self-concerned, but it does little to endear
them to an audience. The selfish choices made so frequently in The Edge of Love grow
wearisome as the film wears on, and by the end my sympathies were thoroughly
exhausted.
Director John Maybury (The Jacket) has an eye for composition, but he cribs liberally
from other, more classic films—a fact he more than readily acknowledges in a hilarious
commentary track—and the visual gimmickry sometimes robs the film of the gravity it tries to
establish. Unearned, then, is a good word to describe The Edge of Love. Moments like the
one shared by William and Vera after the V-1 attack feel saccharine and emotionally forced. When
he tells her, "You have a raindrop running down your cheek, just like a tear," we cringe at the
syrupy sentiment, not buying for a second the bond that disaster has suddenly thrust upon
them. Even Rhys' somber invocations of Dylan's poetry—which would be stunning and musical on
their own—come off as turgid here, a portentous attempt to inject the film with a soul. Beautiful
but ultimately hollow, The Edge of Love is more of a slippery slope into mediocrity.
Filmed half on 35mm and half with the Panavision Genesis camera, the same HD video source
behind Apocalypto, Superbad and Planet Terror, The Edge of
Love is lusciously presented in a 1080p, AVC-encoded transfer. Gone are the days when
video looked flat and lifeless, as new technologies have given higher-end HD cameras all the
depth of field and color prowess of 35mm, with the added benefits of cost reduction and an all-
digital workflow. The Edge of Love comes to the screen, then, with a sharp, mostly noise-free
image that features strong contrast and, in photography terms, some beautiful bokeh—
that
deliciously soft out-of-focus area of the screen. Director John Maybury goes the stylized route for
his dour period piece, selectively desaturating and enhancing certain colors while toning the early
parts of the film in a translucent sepia sheen. Reds are the most vivid—take one look at
Knightley's lipstick for proof—and while colors are stable within scenes, the tonality shifts quite a
bit from one segment to another. One outdoor nighttime scene between Cillian Murphy and Kiera
Knightly, for example, is almost pulled back into black and white. Others moments, like the
scenery outside the Welsh beach house, are deeply saturated in greens and blues. Skin tones
vary similarly, almost with the moods of the film. Black levels seem consistently deep, and
though there is some stylized crush, it is reserved and well incorporated. Importantly, digital
noise is kept to a minimum, although I did spot one or two bright bursts. The noise that is
present in HD-shot scenes, however, often passes for a thin layer of filmic grain.
Unfortunately, director Maybury goes occasionally overboard with the digital glitz, tossing in some
unnecessary effects that want to be "arty" but really only cheapen the experience. As a whole
though, I only wish the film's plot was as sumptuous as its image. There will always be purists
who prefer film (I'm teetering on the fence), but movies like The Edge of Love are quickly
blurring the boundaries.
Nearly as sonorous as Dylan Thomas himself, The Edge of Love features a DTS-HD MA 5.1
track that hits almost all the right notes. For a period piece that's only marginally a war story,
there's a surprising amount of activity spread throughout the channels. Bar scenes are filled with
ambient chatter, seagulls squawk from a distant beach, and air raid sirens haunt the harried streets
of London. When Cillian Murphy has an audio-induced flashback to the war, there's some very
clever sound design that melds the domestic patter of a table being set with the thundering sounds
of battle. The film is clear throughout the audio spectrum, from the high clink of raised
glasses to the literally earth-shattering low-end explosions of V-1 rockets raining down on wartime
Britain. The bass during the opening scene in the underground shelter, however, does seem a bit
too loud and undefined. Voices, on the other hand, cut through the ambience well and never seem
muddled or compressed. Finally, David Lynch go-to composer Angelo Badalamenti provides a lush
and emotional score, but it does seems wasted when the strings soar over characters that we don't
really care about.
Looking Over "The Edge of Love" (SD, 9:40)
Comprised of press junket interviews and cut with sequences from the film, this is a pretty
standard look at character motivations and directorial intent. I found it odd that Kiera Knightley
did almost all of the talking, however, even though Sienna Miller was sitting right next to
her. Gag Reel (SD, 4:10)
Lots of cigarette fumbles, flubbed lines, and screwy faces. Nothing laugh-out-loud-worthy
though. Commentary with Director John Maybury and Actor Matthew Rhys
Matthew Rhys is very clearly drinking during this track—at various points you hear him
unscrewing a bottle of Scotch, presumably, and refilling his glass—so the resultant commentary is
awash in uninhibited comedy and wry, British self-deprecation. Maybury even refers to the film as
"a low-budget remake of Atonement." Cillian Murphy is the brunt of frequent jokes, with
the common consensus being that he's "too pretty to play blokes. He should always be in drag."
Rhys veers occasionally into playful sexual harassment, calling Knightley's breasts "little poached
eggs" and blurting out "lucky saddle" when Miller comes riding down the hill on a bicycle. It's all
in good fun though, and I found myself cracking up at least once a minute. If you're not
interested in the film, pick up the DVD once it hits the bargain bin just for this wickedly funny
commentary track. Trailer (SD, 1:35)
I hesitate to be overly harsh on The Edge of Love—I did enjoy several stretches of the film
—but as a whole its promises go unfulfilled. Even the much-publicized shared bath between Kiera
Knightley and Sienna Miller offers little titillation beyond wet hair and bared shoulders. The
commentary track by John Maybury and Matthew Rhys is one of the wittiest I've heard in ages
though, and I can almost bring myself to recommend the film on this merit alone. With a solid AV
lineup but somewhat lackluster story, this one is a definite rental, and I have no doubt that the film
will find at least a few fans.
Image Entertainment has announced that they will bring the Kierra Knightley and Sienna Miller film 'The Edge of Love' to Blu-ray on July 14th, day-and-date with the DVD release. The film will be presented in 1080p video accompanied by a 5.1 DTS-HD Master Audio ...
