This story of Dicken's infatuation with eighteen-year-old Ellen Tiernan is unexpectedly leaden with the dialogue, in particular, lacking sparkle. The affair has been known about for some time but this version paints Ellen's mother as pimping her to this middle-aged celeb, which is disconcerting. The film is also unbalanced, with the build-up to the affair interminable; Ellen's later life, in a framing device, is also amply covered, while the affair itself is a case of 'blink and you missed it'. Not that there isn't much to enjoy. Joanna Scanlon shines as Catherine Dickens, the obese, neglected wife and mother of his umpteen children, and even bravely allows herself to be glimpsed naked. On one occasion Dickens orders a piece of jewellery for Ellen, only to have the jeweller deliver it to his wife. He makes his wife take it round to Ellen's house, which she does with immense grace, and which puts an end to any possible sympathy one might be tempted to feel for the man. And then there's the spectacularly ill-judged letter that Dickens sends to the Times castigating people for gossiping about his private affairs before announcing his separation from his wife, who learns about this from the paper. Classy! As the film plods along, the men are concealed under acres of facial hair with the lovely Tom Hollander identifiable only by his voice. The reviews were glowing and I was disappointed. Judging by the mutterings as the credits came up, I don't think I was the only one.