I don’t know what it is about Keira Knightley, she’s done absolutely nothing wrong. Nothing whatsoever, but yet I just don’t really like her. I find her kind of annoying. Perhaps she’s too good, too nice, too long-necked – but there’s something I just don’t like.
So I went to see Colette with trepidation – could I get past my distaste of the Knightley?
Yes I absolutely could. And actually she was the star of this film.
This is essentially a costume drama – history isn’t my strong point so I’ll leave it at that. But Knightley (Colette) marries a famous author, publisher and general raconteur called Willy. They live in Paris and have a wonderful life but are running out of cash – mainly because Willy insists of living the lavish lifestyle.
As his outgoings overpower his incomings (we’ve all been there!) he needs more ghostwriters to add to his pool – but he can’t pay anyone else – so he asks his wife.
She is then essentially locked into a room and forced to write.
But it turns out she’s bloody good at it. She tells the stories of her childhood and calls them Claudine. They are a massive success – but published, of course, under her husband’s name.
They are so successful that everyone wants to be Claudine, they want the look they want the life they want to be immersed in this literary world. It’s like the fandom surrounding Harry Potter – but obviously without wizards and things.
Colette and Willy roll in Colette’s success.
Meanwhile Willy has numerous relationships with other women – and so does Colette. She eventually meets the mysterious Missy – who is sure of herself, and sure of Colette and the two start up a relationship. It’s deeply controversial and causes Willy considerable embarrassment.
But it’s this relationship and the certainly which they find in each other which enables Colette to realise that her talents are her own and she should take them in hand and be her own master.
Being locked in a room to write for your husband’s benefit sounds like a somewhat oppressive regime – but without it she probably would have never found her voice or given herself time to even try.
Is this perhaps true of other writers – always looking for reasons not to write – while at the same time desperate to put pen to paper – but also nervous of the potentially wasted hours trying to master the craft.
The only reason Colette wrote was because she was instructed to and they needed the money to survive. How many more potentially literary sensations would start writing if they had to and how many more would be the voice of a generation?
I have to admit that as I watched this I must have started liking Keira Knightley, because by the end I’d almost call myself a fan. I liked her ballsy-ness, her humour and her crazy dancing. Her acting was superb and she absolutely nailed the role.
Keira certainly did the real Colette proud. And I’m proud to admit that I’m now a Keira Knightley fan because of it (well almost!).
offbeat words 
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