Glossy costume drama that is inert for two thirds of the movie. A lot of this has to do with Mark Rylance speaking so softly and hesitantly that one wants to tell him to get on with it. But the main problem is that Patsy Kensit is way over her head with this one. The only time I thought she was really acting was when she panicked when she was getting covered with moths (and methinks that she was really panicking). Also, Kristin Scott Thomas' Matty, instead of coming across as a champion of liberated women everywhere was merely reduced to a know-it-all that I tired of pretty quickly. The film's only saving grace was the references to insects, which was rather interesting. Other than that, a rather boring historical picture with some shocking subject matter to make it relevant.