A Majestic Affair
There's a Chinese phrase, "Old ginger is still the spiciest", and I cannot help but be reminded of it whenever I think about Helen Mirren's fantastic performance in The Queen. Sure, the supporting cast do a fine job, especially Michael Sheen as Tony Blair, but without a doubt, The Queen is Mirren's showcase. Hell, it's named after her character, what else do you expect?
In the week after Princess Diana dies, the royal family remains curiously silent, unknowingly committing one media faux pas after another. We follow Queen Elizabeth as she slowly realizes that the world around her has changed without her being aware of it, and tradition has to be left out of the picture when the media and the public begin baying for the royals' blood.
It's a study of the times, but it's also a portrait of Elizabeth that isn't afraid to show her shortcomings and mistakes. This has the effect of making her realizations that much more powerful, and above all, makes her human, and therefore that much more worthy of respect and adulation.
There's an incredibly powerful and moving scene in the film when Elizabeth and family return from a hunting trip. Driving through the throngs that surround Buckingham Palace, she finally senses the enormity of the situation. She gets out and starts walking, looking at the huge pile of flowers left at the gates, and each card that condemns the royal family for their role (perceived or otherwise) in Diana's death is like a stab in the heart - you can see it in her eyes. Yet when she turns around to face her people, her face has a gentle smile plastered on it - but the pain is still there in her eyes, barely hidden. Then there's a brief exchange between her and a little girl with flowers that is simply heartbreaking and perfect, but to say more would be to spoil the moment for you.
Mirren's work here and throughout the film is breathtaking to behold, her nuances and eyes telling far more than her steely, impeccable demeanor. When it finally cracks, there will be a gentle ripple of a sigh throughout the audience, and that would have been the sound of everyone's heart breaking. She brings grace, dignity, humanity and a touch of gung-ho-ness into the role, which is, quite honestly, the role of a lifetime. Watching this grand old dame drive an SUV with gumption across a river, one cannot help but think of some Heads of State who are so unbelievably under-qualifed for their role in comparison that they lack every single one of those qualities (and I'm not just talking about Bush).
It would be unfair to heap praise on Mirren alone. The screenplay is perfect, and even cleverly alludes to Tony Blair's recent unpopularity in an ironic and resonant scene. The direction by the always-good Stephen Frears hits all the right notes, and Michael Sheen makes good acting seem effortless. In fact, if I hadn't already seen Pan's Labyrinth, this might've been a strong contender for best film of the year. It's an amazing film and a great masterclass on how to make damn good movies.
In the week after Princess Diana dies, the royal family remains curiously silent, unknowingly committing one media faux pas after another. We follow Queen Elizabeth as she slowly realizes that the world around her has changed without her being aware of it, and tradition has to be left out of the picture when the media and the public begin baying for the royals' blood.
It's a study of the times, but it's also a portrait of Elizabeth that isn't afraid to show her shortcomings and mistakes. This has the effect of making her realizations that much more powerful, and above all, makes her human, and therefore that much more worthy of respect and adulation.
There's an incredibly powerful and moving scene in the film when Elizabeth and family return from a hunting trip. Driving through the throngs that surround Buckingham Palace, she finally senses the enormity of the situation. She gets out and starts walking, looking at the huge pile of flowers left at the gates, and each card that condemns the royal family for their role (perceived or otherwise) in Diana's death is like a stab in the heart - you can see it in her eyes. Yet when she turns around to face her people, her face has a gentle smile plastered on it - but the pain is still there in her eyes, barely hidden. Then there's a brief exchange between her and a little girl with flowers that is simply heartbreaking and perfect, but to say more would be to spoil the moment for you.
Mirren's work here and throughout the film is breathtaking to behold, her nuances and eyes telling far more than her steely, impeccable demeanor. When it finally cracks, there will be a gentle ripple of a sigh throughout the audience, and that would have been the sound of everyone's heart breaking. She brings grace, dignity, humanity and a touch of gung-ho-ness into the role, which is, quite honestly, the role of a lifetime. Watching this grand old dame drive an SUV with gumption across a river, one cannot help but think of some Heads of State who are so unbelievably under-qualifed for their role in comparison that they lack every single one of those qualities (and I'm not just talking about Bush).
It would be unfair to heap praise on Mirren alone. The screenplay is perfect, and even cleverly alludes to Tony Blair's recent unpopularity in an ironic and resonant scene. The direction by the always-good Stephen Frears hits all the right notes, and Michael Sheen makes good acting seem effortless. In fact, if I hadn't already seen Pan's Labyrinth, this might've been a strong contender for best film of the year. It's an amazing film and a great masterclass on how to make damn good movies.
Labels: review
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gimme some mindfuckery
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