If there's one thing I like about this film it is the very active presence of Dorothy Wordsworth! I am a big fan of both Wordsworth's and Coleridge's works and an currently studying some Wordsworth at the moment in terms of Marxist criticism and even though in Wordsworth's Tintern Abbey he mentions his sister, he does not actually give her a voice - he repressed her voice to a great extent. Collaboration has always been very common, especially in their time period, but was very rarely acknowledged - something pointed out very strongly in this film, and very correctly the film showed Dorothy assisting and advising her brother on his work. The fictional Dorothy makes some very political and arguably feminist comments in this film, she is trying to pave her way in a man's world, but in her alliance to Coleridge she loses her chance...I'm not sure how much of this film was fiction or fact but I am very pleased with the representation of Dorothy as it is about time her voice was heard.

All those of you who know the true story of these two giants of english poetry who complain about the inaccuracies, go to the soon to be opened Wordsworth museum at Grasmere. The ones who like truly inventive and emotional movies watch it! the performances are superb especially Linus Roache an underused actor if ever there was one, the script and the direction ARE poetry. These people were the original free thinkers before the word hippie was invented they were Libertines just like the film it's self is liberal. Why this did'nt get a general release bemuses me( made by BBC films)but the sad fact of the matter is that in this country if a film hasn't got Working Title or Richard Curtis among it's credits cinemas ignore it. Which makes my blood boil! Especially my local cinema the plaza at Workington who are as guilty as sin. Support should be given in this country for films like this, original films and not yet more working class angst or romantic middle class slush. Seek this film out by hook or by crook and sit back and let it wash through you, over you and into you.

This is a truly dreadful film. Samuel Taylor Coleridge was a fascinating man, unhappily married, he lusted after Wordsworth's sister in law who would have nothing to do with him He was a habitual opium taker with a genius with words but his utter self obsession ruined him. Why make up such a ludicrous tale as Wordsworth getting him hooked on opium and plotting against him? The truth is much more interesting and far more entertaining than this excuse for a film. So horrifically, utterly awful I can barely type this for the bile dripping from my mouth. Note Emily Woof (here playing Dorothy Wordsworth) is the daughter of the current Director of the Wordsworth Trust....

This beautifully filmed treasure was a special treat to watch, as it transported me into a different world and captured the feelings I had as a student of English literature studying Coleridge and Wordsworth. Through its artistic interpretation of the inner landscape of Coleridge's mind, it reawakened the emotions that Coleridge's poetry itself evoked. I applaud the credit it gave to the women in the lives of these two masters, particularly Dorothy Wordsworth, whose importance to the poetry itself was unrecognized in the original works and has always been underappreciated. The film really brought to life "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner," "Kubla Khan," and "Frost at Midnight."The movie was so powerful because of the beautiful filming--the sets, scenery, costumes, etc., the photographic talents that captured these, the haunting background score, and the talented acting of the cast, particularly that of Linus Roach, who displayed a variety of emotional states so wonderfully, though I was really moved by Emily Woof's acting, as well. At first it seemed to me that John Hannah was merely walking through his role, but I now feel that the subdued acting was deliberate in portraying a much more sinister Wordsworth. I also applaud Samantha Morton and Samuel West for their roles.The one odd thing about the movie was the segment shown during the final credits, in which Coleridge walks around in modern London, with dreadful popular modern music playing. I understand that a statement was being made, but it contrasted too sharply with the beauty of the film and the reverie in which I found myself. (The music was dreadful because of the contrast with the earlier context.) I really didn't need to be unkindly startled from the earlier sweet emotions. Only credit-watchers like me have to worry about it, though.