December 2006
Talking about movies: "The Queen" and Film Monarchy
By Frank Beaver
Having taught British cinema for many years, and having recently seen "The Queen," I was prompted to reflect on just how long royalty films have been a significant part of British cultural life; and on how these films often touch on and affect the longstanding, unresolved public debate over the monarchy versus republicanism.
The first internationally successful British sound film was Alexander Korda's "The Private Life of Henry VIII" in 1933. The screenplay (by Arthur Wimperis) has in common with its monarchy-related successors a candid, behind-the-scenes peek at life in the Royal Household. With a massive Charles Laughton literally filling the screen as no actor before him had done, filmgoers were given a characterization of Henry VIII that was both satirical and quite sad. The portrait was that of a needy, vulnerable man with psychologically-interconnected culinary and sexual appetites. Adding to the film's appeal were spirited court servants and their titillating reactions to Henry's lusty sexuality. Their commentary reinforced the risqué tone of the film, which more than anything else was responsible for its huge international success.
Historians and cultural critics have noted that ideologically, "The Private Life of Henry VIII" peeled away the mystery of royalty through its humanizing, sympathetic portrayal of a monarch with less than commanding powers, politically and personally.
Then, in 1937—on the heels of the abdication of the Prince of Wales over the love of a divorced American woman—British producer Herbert Wilcox released "Victoria the Great," which like "Henry VIII" turned out to be both a box-office and critical success. The film's aim was to rouse British patriotism and pride. And, with the beautiful Anna Neagle in the starring role, it recounts Victoria's reign as one of unfailing service to her country. The film recreated numerous public events of Victoria's 64-year reign, a period which saw Britain gain in international esteem and wealth. The behind-the-scenes look at Victoria's personal life included her courtship with Albert, their marriage and honeymoon, and his eventual illness and death, followed by the Queen's overwhelming grief and self-exile from public duty.
While not as candid an expose as that of Henry VIII, the film revealed the Queen's heartfelt personal concerns for her people and for the Empire at large. At the same time, "Victoria the Great" reassured Britons that the monarchy, which had faltered with the Prince of Wales' abdication, remained sturdy.
One of my favorite British films, also about Victoria, is "Mrs. Brown" (1997), a fascinating behind-the-scenes treatment of the Queen's grief and public withdrawal following the death of Prince Albert in 1861. The film gets its title from a Scottish character, John Brown, a non-royalist Highlander servant who is convinced by the Queen's Secretary that he must help lift Victoria out of her sorrow. Her refusal to attend state functions has resulted in a Parliamentary crisis and a republican movement that would abolish the monarchy. With the Queen ensconced in Balmoral Castle in Scotland, John Brown develops an intimacy and confidentiality with Victoria that slowly pulls her back into life and public service to her country. The relationship between Victoria (Judi Dench) and Brown (Billy Connolly) is an ambiguous one, of nuance and innuendo. Observant household servants at Balmoral, in gossipy asides, begin to refer to Victoria as "Mrs. Brown."
Still another monarchy-in-crisis film is "The Madness of King George" (1994), an adaptation of Alan Bennett's 1991 stage play about the bizarre behavior of George III after the loss of the American colonies and during a period of mental illness and depression. In a manner similar to "The Private Life of Henry VIII," the screenplay debunks the mystique of royalty by presenting an account of a complex monarch, in this case one who is out of control and on the verge of losing his mind and his crown. Political rivalries emerge amid efforts to take advantage of the king's unstable condition and the ensuing political instability. George III is brilliantly and touchingly portrayed by Nigel Hawthorne. As in the film treatment of Henry VIII, George III comes across as a sympathetic monarch, full of humanity and pathos.
And now there is "The Queen." Stephen Frears' film is an absolutely delightful and deliciously voyeuristic screen experience. The two principal characters, Elizabeth II and Tony Blair, are still out and about in contemporary Britain.
The film gives us a masterfully realized docudrama constructed around the early relationship between Blair and the Queen. It begins with Blair's election as Prime Minister and first meeting with the Queen in May 1997, followed by Diana's death and funeral four months later, and concluding with the Queen receiving Blair again at Buckingham Palace two months after the funeral.
"The Queen" is a two-tiered study in character transformation that results from an unforgettable week in recent British history. Frears gives us behind-the-scenes accounts of the Royal Household's aloof response at Balmoral to the news of Diana's death and their hope for a private funeral. Simultaneously we see Blair and his assistants scrambling at 10 Downing St. to come up with their own response to the tragedy.
Shortly afterwards Blair is seen appearing before news cameras outside and declaring Diana "the People's Princess." As a result his political stock and personal confidence rise—so much so that Blair decides to try to convince the Queen that Diana's funeral demands a Royal presence. Once again "The Queen" presses the issue of monarchy versus republicanism. When Elizabeth finally responds, the result is a glum walk-about among the tons of flowers laid by the public in affection for Diana, a television address to her subjects, and attendance at the state funeral at Westminster Abbey.
When an ebullient Blair pays a visit to the Queen two months later, he commends Elizabeth for her show of humility. She responds: "You mean humiliation," and then proceeds to warn the Prime Minister that power and public esteem can be fleeting.
This statement, if it was actually made at the time, is of course one of ironic prescience. Now in 2006 the tables have turned on Blair, while the Queen has regained her public affection as a dutiful servant of the nation, even among many who would like to see the monarchy abolished.
Helen Mirren, the remarkable impersonator of Elizabeth II who grew up in an anti-royalist family, has said in an interview with The Daily Telegraph that she too has had a change of heart about the current monarch since the events of September 1997. "People have woken up to the truth that she was always there. She was constant, she never wavered, she's gone on through fashions, politics, nine or ten prime ministers. She has continued—an amazing quality to have in this time that isn't about continuum." (Sept. 1, 2006).
There seems to be consensus in Britain that "The Queen" is thematically beneficial to Elizabeth and, some critics say, to monarchy itself. Writing in The Independent on Oct. 8, David Thomson maintained, "This movie could prolong the royal family for two years or two centuries. It could be a turning point."
Whatever its ultimate effect, "The Queen" is a terrific movie; its characterization of Elizabeth is complex and touching, its dialogue is barbed and witty (listen to Cherie Blair's responses to royalty), and Helen Mirren's take on the queen is nothing short of stunning. It's a film that does its genre honor.

Film historian and critic Frank Beaver is professor of film and video studies and professor of communication.
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