Review
Review Date: 29-October-06
Spoiler Rating: Medium
Juju Judgment: Juicy
The Queen/Marie Antoinette (2006)
Maybe it's because I'm American and deliberately ignore mainstream news, but I think "The Queen" is a very strange picture. In the first place, it's a non-documentary film which deals with real, recent events and extant people — prominent people, mind you, not folks being granted their 15 minutes of fame. Also, it takes one week in these people's lives and tries to extract an important meaning from it, a meaning which seems dreadfully old-fashioned. The week in question began in late summer 1997 when Great Britain had just elected a new prime minister, Tony Blair, and Princess Diana died in a car crash. Although she was no longer a member of the royal family (as you may recall), Diana's death was widely regarded as a national and international tragedy. Yet as Downing Street responded with displays of sorrow and public concern, the nominal power behind the commonwealth remained mum. On holiday at her highland estate, Queen Elizabeth II refused to address the loss of her former daughter-in-law or to return to London and her grieving subjects. She thus generated unprecedented ill-will towards herself and the institution of the monarchy.
What's most enjoyable about "The Queen" is how it contrasts its two famous leaders and endears the viewer to both. Michael Sheen, whom I've admired since his turn as the visionary werewolf in "Underworld," plays Blair like the smart big brother you always wish you had. He's introduced as the epitome of modern reality, a forward-thinker whose landslide victory declares him a man of the people and who views the royal family as from another planet. While he inhabits a bright, cluttered, technology-driven home and office, occasionally helping his outspoken wife (Helen McCrory) wash the dishes, the queen reposes in tidy, fusty old palaces waited upon by servants and only vaguely supported by her husband (James Cromwell). Yet this doesn't make her the duller of the two, for Elizabeth is played by Helen Mirren with an irresistible mix of mettle, slyness, and vulnerability. Though clearly a capable woman, her upbringing and experience have not prepared her for the obsession with melodramatic celebrity which now defines popular culture and indeed everything related to Princess Di. Where Blair sees responsibility and opportunity in the wake of Diana's death, the queen sees a hysteria that she's duty-bound to ignore. (Frankly, I'd side with her on this one even without Mirren's lovely performance.)
Director Stephen Frears finds humor in comparing the antipodes of his country's government, but camaraderie and pathos as well. He doesn't clearly argue why Blair becomes one of the few champions of the queen (a weakness of the film), but he uses this position to conclude that Elizabeth's royal resilience carried the day. He really admires the old lady for daring to look beyond, yet remain faithful to, her inherited centuries of waning tradition. The effect is quaint and very British, and with such strong actors hits home.
While vastly different from "The Queen," "Marie Antoinette" is also a strange movie that defends a historically maligned woman who stumbled on the throne. The deceptive trailer made it look like a newfangled romp about a nymphomaniac party girl, but writer/director Sofia Coppola infuses her funky version of history with a surprising amount of melancholy and compassion. Not only does she deny that Marie Antoinette cruelly declared, "Let them eat cake," she imagines that France's last queen behaved as any good-natured woman in her situation would do.
The essence of "Marie Antoinette" is immediately revealed as we see the teenage heroine (Kirsten Dunst) enduring the transition from Austrian princess to dauphine of France. In a visually lavish scene (one of zillions), she stops on the border between the countries that brokered her marriage and is literally forced to purge her homeland before moving on. Right away Coppola invites us to see her subject as more than a pampered fool from a history book. She's a girl whose enormous privilege cannot protect her from human needs, fears, and responsibilities. When she arrives at Versailles these factors increase with the surrounding opulence. The poor thing can't get out of bed without being observed by two dozen sycophants who wrestle for the right to offer her a house dress as she stands there naked and shivering. (Funny, but sad.) Even on her wedding night she's put to bed by half the court, who congregates next morning to discuss the likelihood or quality of her deflowering.
The sex is a sticky issue (no pun intended), for Louis XVI (Jason Schwartzman) is a polite but faraway fellow who shows no interest in his blooming young bride. According to constant correspondence from Marie's mother (over several years!), his impotence is the result of her not being charming enough. Here again you feel for the girl. It's true she has begun to indulge in catty palace intrigue and extravagant expenditures of vanity, but what else is she meant to do? She tries and fails to arouse her husband each night, which is her one occupational obligation; it's only natural that she pursues the pleasures of her position during the day. And Coppola and Dunst pursue these pleasures with such abandon that it's hard not to get caught up in their fantasy.
Eventually Louis and Marie do produce children and settle into a comfortable cordiality, but there's still 24 hours in a day. The queen falls in with a rowdy crowd and takes a Swedish lover, though not in desperation or regret. She remains a sweet girl at heart, desirous of being happy and making others happy around her. Right up to the storming of the Bastille she's able to appreciate the beauty that her absurdly luxurious life has offered. If this were true it would be a remarkable accomplishment, and I admire Coppola for envisioning it. "Marie Antoinette" depicts simplicity amid sumptuousness, which amounts to both visual and cerebral stimulation.
Copyright © 2006 The Jujube (M. I. Kim). All rights reserved.
