You can't translate poetry into prose. That's what makes it poetry.
For my first film of the year at the Ryder I chose Howl (with the full moon just days away, there's no better time to). Written for the screen and directed by Rob Epstein & Jeffrey Friedman, the film covers the creation and reception of Allen Ginsburg's epic poem, cutting back and forth between its first public reading in 1955, an interview he gave in 1957, the historic obscenity trial that took place the same year, and an animated depiction of the full text of the poem. That's a lot of strands to keep track of, but Epstein & Friedman prove adept at keeping all their balls aloft at the same time. Of course, it helps that they have a remarkable Ginsberg in James Franco, whose performance transcends mere impersonation. Whether he's reciting Ginsberg's poetry or talking frankly about his life and his hangups (sexual or otherwise), Franco fully embodies the role, effectively disappearing into it.
Ginsberg famously didn't attend Howl's obscenity trial because he wasn't the one on trial, the book's publisher was. (Regardless, he must have been gravely concerned about its outcome.) In the series of scenes that cover it, prosecutor David Strathairn seems obsessed with the specific words used in the poem and is given to asking the defense's witnesses what certain passages mean, and his own experts (Mary-Louise Parker, Jeff Daniels) testify that it has little or no literary merit. For his part, defense lawyer Jon Hamm builds a strong case backed by expert witnesses (Alessandro Nivola, Treat Williams) whose arguments are a bit more convincing, at least to judge Bob Balaban (who, with his deadpan delivery, gets some of the biggest laughs in the whole film). Overall, it's an uplifting story with an impassioned message about the value of intellectual and artistic freedom. And that's a good thing to be reminded of every once in a while.