THere are two similar and similar films that come to this season of awards that focus on women's monarchs and how their relationships with other women have produced a profound change. In the baptized and brutal comedy of Yorgos Lanthimos, The Favorite, the mental state of queen Anne is harmonized by two women who fight for their affections and, in turn, increase their power both in their palace and in the country. Josie Rourke is much more conventional, although entertaining, Maria, Queen of the Scots, we see how the titular character crashes with Queen Isabel to control the destinations of many hanging on the balance. Tonual and visually, the two could not be more different although both contain familiar observations about the sad sadism of life on the high and how the tension between these women was orchestrated by the men around them.
Although Queen Anne's life historically received a minimal screen time, the most obvious cinematographic dynamic between Mary and Elizabeth inspired a series of retellings. We've seen Katharine Hepburn, Vanessa Redgrave and Samantha Morton play Mary while Glenda Jackson, Helen Mirren and Cate Blanchett have starved Elizabeth, filmmakers fascinated by the difficult relationship shared by the couple. It is undoubtedly a story that probably has already been said enough, but there is something undoubtedly tempting about the idea of the creator of House of Cards, Beau Willimon, leading his brand of gloomy corridor that forgot the policy of the sixteenth century. Like its Netflix show, there is both a powerful power squeeze diabolical and a mild dependence on the soap theaters, although the balance here works mainly. Think of it as more a season than the sixth.
After spending most of his childhood in France, Mary (Saoirse Ronan) is returning to Scotland as a widow of 18 years. There are concerns about his reappearance as a half-brother and temporary ruler, James (James McArdle) and Protestant clergymen John Knox (David Tennant). His Catholicism is instantly divisive, as is his lack of will to be spoken by the men who are beneath it. His arrival also takes the feathers in England and puts against his cousin Elizabeth (Margot Robbie) who, without children, is being pressured to name an heir. Mary sees herself as the instant candidate with Elizabeth in silence but those who surround the two queens fear the future and begin to plot, triggering a chain of events that threatens to destroy the two women.
The machinations of those who dominated the period may be familiar to many, but Rourke and Willimon created a succulent and rugged drama that offers an elegant alternative to what happened. He is not revolutionary or especially revisionist, but here is enough to make him feel like a worthy effort. Rourke, the artistic director of Donmar, has a lot of experience with scenic productions, although Mary Queen of Scots marks her film debut. Stage-to-screen transitions are usually irregular, but Rourke makes a filmmaker, craftingly creating awesome images and passing his story as a thriller. But while he manages to transform the murder of a supporting character into one of the most horrifying and amazing death scenes of the year, he is less likely to turn a strange and disordered battle scene into something remotely exciting.
For the most part, Willimon does a good job to condense all information about what he feels like a two-hour fast operating time. Historians have already labeled the problematic movie of the Scottish accent of Mary (apparently French) for the dramatic confrontation in person between the two queens (apparently never happened). But your discomfort with these deviations will depend on how you see the difference between history and the historical drama and while there are some ornaments, they are ornaments that have been added to previous adaptations and the primary facts appear relatively helpless, the truth quite impressive to promote the plot in case alone
The most exciting pleasure of the film is a performance show by Ronan, who at the age of 24 is becoming one of the most impressive actors in the industry. After his horrific Oscar-nominated act, Greta Gerwig's conduct in Lady Bird is remarkable, perfect as Mary: vulnerable, terrifying, strong, sexy, and without dominant effort when he takes over the men who try to overcome the same. It's a surprisingly committed and committed twist and, in a fair year, she would be bathed with more attention. There is also a little reminder of how she was Maria's girlfriend, along with so many other monarchs of the past, and there is a scandalous illusion for some of her scenes with her easements, which often transported a often soundproofed side.
However, in England, things are not so successful. Much has been made of Robbie's transformation of one of the most desired women in Hollywood to a queen-ridden queen and relates the jealousy of which he considered most attractive. However, Robbie, a qualified actor capable of illuminating lower movies such as Focus and Suicide Squad, is never much convinced of the accent or appearance and can almost feel his concentration as much as he forgets to add more to the role. It is an obvious miscast that means that there is always a side of the movie, and given the amount of superior Elizabeths we saw on large and small screens, it is the biggest hit in the movie. However, Ronan dominates, both the screen time and the presence and scene very discussed together have some power, despite some unnecessary visual tricks.
In a concerted season of prizes and with a strangely delayed festival arch, it is possible that Queen Mary Queen of Scots, and the main performance of Ronan, can be ignored in an unfair manner. It would be a shame because it is a finely constructed drama, avoiding stupidity without sliding into the territory of the camp and that unconscious historians may disapprove, all others will be entertained in a supreme way.