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Poor Richard Todd and Joan Collins. I don't think that anyone warned them about Bette Davis when she gets into full-on diva mode. In a performance that screams "DRAG QUEEN!," Davis snaps out consonants, shows off a gruff wit, swishes her wrists and chews the scenery. Her Queen Elizabeth is perfectly queenly, but not entirely in the royal sense. Davis probably this knew film was a dud and just wanted to have some fun. And fun is the perfect word to describe her insane performance. Lady-boys in West Hollywood could learn a few tricks from her in this movie. Complete with a scene of pure grotesquery: Davis reveals her bald head towards the end of the film. No one loved to look old, diseased, or grotesque as much as Davis. She had no real interest in beauty, glamor, or being a movie star.
But Davis is really more of a supporting player to Richard Todd and Joan Collins as Sir Walter Raleigh and the lady-in-waiting he falls in love with. Their romance was worthy of a film, since it was illegal and treacherous at the time. But the direction is incompetent, the script is limp, and our two leads sure do look attractive. Collins mistakes cleavage revealing costumes and breathy coos in the Queen's English as acting. The less said about Richard Todd the better. Between Davis' classic entrance and her big reveal is pure filler. If Davis isn't on-screen, The Virgin Queen is a prudent bore.
