Long live
The Queen
.
The docudrama hits a home run in Stephen Frears'
The Queen
, which examines the relationship between Queen Elizabeth II and Prime Minister Tony Blair through a balanced account of the harrowing days following the death of Princess Diana. As England was brought to its knees by guilt and grief when the "people's princess" was killed in an accident caused by paparazzi, the royals quietly imploded in the confines of Balmoral Castle, the "modern" minister Blair their only link to the changing needs of the populace.
Helen Mirren is phenomenal as Queen Elizabeth II, delivering an unprecedented performance, penetrating and truthful, of one of the most powerful and private women in the world.
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The film begins on election day, May 2, 1997. The queen sits for a portrait, commenting on her own inability to vote. "How nice," she says, "it would be to be partial." The painter reminds her that it is, however, her government, and with the slightest curl of the lip she replies, "I suppose that is a consolation." There is no question that this is a woman of impregnable rank and experience and that there is no one else like her, anywhere. Mirren's portrayal is filled with examples of complexity and subtlety.
After Diana's death, the queen's belief in "restrained grief, sober and private mourning" elicits hateful press. Her subjects accuse her of aloof abandonment in what they believe to be a time of national grieving. During one of what become daily urgings from Blair to address the public, the queen's face contorts as her resolve melds with her utter confusion, but her dignity never falters. Outside Buckingham Palace, humiliated by cards praising Diana and attacking the royals, her humanity and desire to serve her people is expressed nobly as she accepts flowers from a little girl.
Michael Sheen's Blair is idealistic and understanding of the queen's position. His performance, though simplistic in comparison to Mirren's, serves its purpose as a backdrop of the queen's struggle.
The film itself is shot like a very grand BBC television special. Real photos and newsreels of Lady Diana, throughout her life, successfully resurrect her importance and bring back the pain and magnitude of her passing. Simple shot choices play second fiddle to an insightful script, supporting the film best through their anonymity. Two helicopter shots hastily thrown in to add production value convey the majesty of Balmorrow but seem cheap and out of place.
The straightforward camera work is dressed up through rich production design. Gilt chairs, intricate wallpaper and rich fabrics encircle the royal family, appropriately emphasizing their privileged lifestyle. When Blair is sworn in, he climbs a stairway lined with mirrors, servants running every which way. The ever-conscious queen gestures for him to sit on a carved wooden chair just slightly less comfortable than her sofa. As he is restrained by his seat, the queen reminds him that he is her 10th
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prime minister, her first being Winston Churchill. After the ordeal of Diana's memorial, they meet again in the same room, but instead of a confined chair he graduates to a walk in the garden.
An orchestral score evokes feelings of a romantic comedy, livening the mood of the piece and helping to grant the audience permission to laugh. The serious subject matter does, without a doubt, contain delightful humor. Being in the company of the queen is called being in "The Presence," old guard decorum that is strictly enforced. Before Blair enters he is coached on a series of bows "from the neck," steps forward and how to exit-"never turn your back to her royal highness." His discomfort is matched by her own after he tells her that he prefers to be called by his first name. "Hello, Tony? No, I don't like that at all."
Frears' unique portrayal of a too-often-satirized queen is fair and insightful, delivering an engaging look into the reality of the British monarchy.
