Red Rose

On the plus side, there are some haunting ballads in this drama that remind us why Rabbie Burns is renowned the world over. Sadly, though, the rest of this is a bit of a low-budget mess. It's all set ... On the plus side, there are some haunting ballads in this drama that remind us why Rabbie Burns is renowned the world over. Sadly, though, the rest of this is a bit of a low-budget mess. It's all set in a Scotland that sees some folks looking at the French Revolution with a degree of envy. Amidst this Hanoverian v Republican contretemps, we meet the quite shrewd Burns (Michael Rodgers) who is eager to marry Jean (Lucy Russell). Her dad isn't keen on the idea, declaring that the writer is a bit of a rake, but true love prevails and so, for that matter, do the opinions of her father. That's just the start of a story that criss-crosses this life of a charming but struggling writer, womaniser, excise man and husband. Along the way his forthright, but never overtly political, views manage to alienate the sponsoring aristocracy and just about everyone else as his hens start to come to roost. If you're looking for any sort of meaningful biopic of the bard or any assessment of his works, then you're in the wrong film. This is just a weakly written attempt at a romantic costume drama with a little mischief, a tiny bit of menace - thanks to Sean Arnold, and some fine scenery around Dumfriesshire. The casting isn't actually that bad, and both Russell and Rebecca Palmer as another of his loves (the unhappily married Maria Riddell) work quite well, but Rodgers just looks like he's an extra from an episode of "Poldark" and the narrative and the picture editing are just all over the place. It tries to cram in far too much that's insubstantial and salacious about his life into 1¾ hours at the expense of anything especially authoritative that might make us care about this roguish gent in the first place. It's certainly an history that's worth telling, but just not this way.