I am happy to report that a "period drama" is not two hours of bloated bitches screaming - between Ben & Jerry's binges - about cramps and the endless oppression of the patriarchy. Instead, a period drama, aka costume drama or period piece (which, incidentally, is also a formally recognized term for your side chick when she's sailing the red tide), is a boring-ass, hoity-toity, stinkless shit, game of dress up usually produced solely to win someone his or her (or, fine, shis or ziss or what the fuck ever's) first Oscar.
In this case that someone is Keira "On My Wayward Son" Knightley. Having appeared in Pride and Prejudice, Atonement, The Duchess, and Anna Karenina, Knightley may be the Queen of Period Dramas, but she's never fondled her very own tiny, gold, bald guy. Colette may finally give her the chance. For the record, it will also get any dude who's willing to sit through it with his girlfriend laid that night. Such is the power of historical chick flicks.
The historical chick in question is the famous French author Colette. Colette's life was like a #MeToo, #TimesUp, #GrrlPower menage a trois. After marrying successful writer Henri Gauthier-Villars (Dominic "The Wire, Wire" West), Colette caught the writing bug from him (along with, most likely, a four course case of the crabs - Henri would apparently fuck anything that had even recently moved). She wrote - with her hubby acting as editor and under his already famous and penis-possessing name - four wildly successful Claudine novels.
As Colette and Henri were French, they also enjoyed an open marriage that introduced Colette to the pleasures of Sappho, which for our less literate readers means clam-slurping, scissoring and all other things lusciously leztastic. Colette discovered that she preferred tuna tacos to bratwurst - as well as getting credit for her writing - so she divorced Henri and lived happily ever after on a sea of snatch and literary praise.
You can see why Knightley was drawn to Colette. There isn't a hot button issue - or hot love button - that it doesn't push. Over and over. Faster and faster. Until the lotus blossom quivers, glistens and explodes. She even shows off one of her beautifully petite blouse mouses for the Academy's (and horndogs' everywhere) consideration.
October 12, 2018