Veronica Franco (Catherine McCormack) is every man's dream: beautiful, literate, witty, and available. Well, sort of available. You see, it's 16th Century Venice, and Veronica has been pressed into service by her mother to work as a courtesan. If you're out of touch with that era's terminology, a courtesan was a prostitute with wealthy, upper class clients. So she's available to some men for some things, for a price. And she's permitted perks not available to other women, such as access to books.
Veronica had hoped to marry Marco Venier, but his wealthy family wasn't keen, and hers felt the need for her to generate income. So, life did not go as sweet, sentimental Veronica had hoped. After a time, she becomes accustomed to her job and uses it to her advantage and that of Venice, by entertaining the King of France sufficiently to convince him to provide much-needed ships at a time of war.
However, her love for Marco just won't go away, even after he succumbs to family pressures and marries an appropriately positioned woman. That unhappiness is multiplied many times over when the plague strikes Venice, followed closely by the church's Inquisition. That's when we reach the film's climax.
Dangerous Beauty is based on a true story. It's extremely attractive (McCormack herself is rather pleasant to look at). It's also intelligent; Veronica is a champion at exchanging extemporaneous verse in duels with appropriately smitten men.
Yes, we'd like to have a deeper understanding of what makes Veronica tick; how she reconciled herself deep down to her un-chosen life situation. And it's sentimental, which might turn some off, but really isn't out of proportion to the story and its other strengths.
This is a rare film: a love story that isn't saddled with an overly-predictable outcome. For that and its other assets, it deserves to be seen.
