The Queen

Stephen Frears’ The Queen is an utterly fascinating (highly fictional) look into one of the most unknowable figureheads in all of the monarchy: the Queen Mother. Queen Elizabeth II has given her entire life to her country, and she has done so with class, selflessness and a level-headedness that befits such a position. We cannot ever really know the true woman beneath the propriety, rules, regulations, customs and idiosyncrasies of the title, but there have been numerous moments of small insight. The Queen displays what might have happened in the time shortly after Diana, Princess of Wales, died in a car accident. My sympathies stayed with her, even when her countrymen did not.

By now it has entered the cultural landscape in such a way that it’s almost impossible to remember a time when it was unfolding before you, but this story takes place in the week-long aftermath of the death of Princess Diana. We see two worlds, which often interconnect but never really understand each other completely. On one hand we have Queen Elizabeth II and the royal family trying to keep the matter private, consul and distract Princes William and Harry from the media firestorm, and trying to find the correct way to deal with the burial, funeral and all that goes along with it. The other hand tells of the story of Tony Blair, then a young upstart in the Prime Minister’s office, and his media manipulation to use the death of Diana as a springboard for his political parties ability to get in touch with the common man. Eventually, he realizes that maybe Queen Elizabeth II is right: Diana was no longer a member of the royal family, she doesn’t deserve the hubbub, pomp and circumstance that goes along with a royal death. And maybe the British public, which he helped whip into a frenzy, should treat her with some more respect and stop making such anti-monarchy sentiments. She has, afterall, dedicated her entire life and being to her country, and is as unfathomable to them as their reaction to Diana’s death is to her. She is not sheltered, but none one can really know what her personal feelings are.

Helen Mirren nails the role. From the first frame until the very last she remains in character and does her best to creature a portrait of the human being beneath the title. Is this how the real Queen Mother is? I do not know. The British do not know. But I can believe that this is a very real possibility. In a scene where she sees a large stag, impossibly beautiful and full of grace, being hunted for its size and ephemeral nature, she cries and recognizes a kindred spirit. It could come across as ham-fisted, but Mirren’s face, normally so placid and contained, twinges every so lovely. It’s the quiet moments and not just the physical and vocal transformations that allowed her to justifiably win that Oscar. But poor Michael Sheen…he got left behind during awards season. Tony Blair is a man unafraid of the media spotlight and knows what the power of it can accomplish, perhaps since he’s so familiar to us Sheen’s performance (his second Blair performance of three, so far) came across as mimicry and not a real portrait. I disagree. But, alas, I am not a member of the AMPAS, Golden Globes, SAG, BFCA or BAFTA.

The Queen is full of stellar performances, the supporting cast on the monarch side alone is first-rate and Blair’s staff and family is full of spot-on portrayals, a smart script, and emotionally connectivity to spellbind any of us. God save the Queen, I mean it, man.