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If somebody gave me a pop quiz about Sylvia Plath, I'd probably fail it
worse than Barry Bonds would fare on a steroids test. Aside from knowing
enough to cut a wide path around those weird girls who read The Bell Jar in
high school, I couldn't tell you one thing about Plath. Don't know where she
lived. Don't know when she lived. Don't know if she looked anything like
Gwyneth Paltrow.
So, in a way, I was the ideal viewer for Sylvia. A fresh slate. No
preconceived notions about anything, and completely without the lofty
expectations a big Plath fan might have as they eagerly await the release of
their idol's big screen story.
Sadly, all of that goodwill ended fairly soon into my Sylvia voyage. While
one can't fault the story - it's yet another typical biopic about a tragic
dead person, complete with self-important, leaden pace - for being too
agonizingly gloomy, one can threaten to brain the filmmakers for making it
all so excruciatingly dull (I shouted, "Hurry up and ice yourself already!"
more than a few times). The film follows Plath's life from her college years
at Cambridge through the day she finally crammed her head in the oven and
checked out for good. Paltrow plays the eponymous Plath, and does a decent
job acting sufficiently crazy, but in a slightly more likable way than, say,
a movie about Elizabeth Wurtzel.
1:50 - R for sexuality/nudity and language
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X-RAMR-ID: 36517
X-Language: en
X-RT-ReviewID: 1228769
X-RT-TitleID: 1126413
X-RT-SourceID: 595
X-RT-AuthorID: 1146
X-RT-RatingText: 6/10
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