THE QUEEN

Written by Peter Morgan
Directed by Stephen Frears

In August of 1997, Diana, the former Princess of Wales, was killed in a car accident. An international sense of grief overtook the modern world. She was charitable, a humanitarian, and a beautiful one at that. She was adored by millions for being flawed, for never rising above the level of the people or appearing entitled. She was modern royalty, a royalty that connected with the masses instead of one that looked down at its people from a pedestal. And while the families of the world grieved the loss of an icon with an outpouring of emotion, one family chose to keep the loss to themselves, a private family matter. That family was the Royal Family. Director Stephen Frears (MRS. HENDERSON PRESENTS) bravely crosses the gates of Buckingham Palace to show the millions who watched from outside what might have been going on inside during the week following Diana’s death in this intimate and delicate portrayal of THE QUEEN.

Frears shows both respect and restraint in his telling of this tale. No one character, including Diana, is over glorified, making all points of view and perspectives relevant and reasonable. For all his nobility, Frears’ directorial efforts are surpassed by a sensitive and balanced script by writer Peter Morgan (and by the delightfully enigmatic performance by Helen Mirren as The Queen, but more on that later). Morgan’s script came together from a collection of interviews and discreet contacts. The remaining details were filled in by his imagination. The result draws many lines, leaving opposing forces on each side of the gate. Two months prior to Diana’s death, Prime Minister Tony Blair (Michael Sheen) was elected to office with a landslide win. He represented the modern man and the people hoped his youth would bring England a desperate revolution. England though, will always be caught between the old and the new as long as the Monarchy exists. The Monarchy by nature cannot be modern. It is steeped in tradition, some that even the family laugh at. But though they may laugh at them, they are always upheld. What the Queen does not see coming is that her allegiance to tradition has brought her and her family so far removed from her people that they no longer understand them. As the Royal Family continued to say nothing regarding Diana’s death, the public pointed their anger for their loss directly at them, insinuating that they had no compassion, no hearts. But as much as the Queen did not consider their feelings, the people did not consider hers. Different people grieve in different fashions and Morgan’s script shows the Queen’s decision to not speak publicly about Diana’s death not as a cold decision, but one that placed her family first, especially her grandsons. The very public death was also a very private matter. The closed gate between both parties never allowed either to fully comprehend the other.


By now you have heard how good Mirren is as The Queen. Trust me, you will continue to hear this until the moment she walks up to the stage to accept her Oscar (or at the very least, a BAFTA). Mirren’s humane performance is often hilarious and always insightful. In one moment, she is sarcastically dismissing the newly elected Blair; in another she is lost but determined to understand, her eyes fixed on a television interview of Diana talking about the way the Royal Family treated her. From her side of the gate, she has given her entire life to her people; they will always love her for it and respect her decisions. Mirren’s eyes are always searching for understanding, while maintaining her dignity and exhibiting restraint. At first it seems she is searching to understand why the reaction to Diana’s death is so massive. To her, Diana had always been trouble and had brought so much shame upon her family. As her search continues though, she is striving to make sense of the disdain and contempt she feels growing in her people. It is not that she is no longer connected to them; it is just that she doesn’t see where they are coming from anymore. How could she? She knows a very different side of Diana’s story than they do. In one very simple yet overwhelming scene, The Queen gets her four-wheel drive vehicle stuck in a stream. She is alone, surrounded by nature and waiting for someone to come pick her up. In that moment, she is overtaken. She says nothing but her mind’s thoughts echo the daunting position she is in. The mother of her grandsons is dead; her people have turned on her; she is the bloody Queen of England and she is stuck in a stream! It is all too much and she bursts into tears. She is only human after all.

I must admit, I did not get swept up in the worldwide grief over Diana’s death. Of course, I saw the enormous size of it but I was just not taken in by it. Even with my detached position, it is impossible to avoid being taken in to it when watching THE QUEEN. It is also not possible to support but one side thanks to Frears and Morgan. Being placed on both sides only allows for the possibility of tapping in to both expressions of grief. The grief is only heightened by the inability for both sides to empathize with the other. There is no way to know for certain how the Royal Family actually grieved the death of Diana but when THE QUEEN impartially opens the gates that have since been closed, one might hope this telling is close to the truth, if only because this possible truth will certainly heal.

MRS. HENDERSON PRESENTS

Written by Martin Sherman
Directed by Stephen Frears

The credits roll and instantly MRS. HENDERSON PRESENTS is insufferable. A tiresome montage of animation and archival footage of monkeys, cherubs and ladies in suggestive situations introduces the film’s players as a flat jazz score attempts to liven the mood and pick up the pace. I felt I might be doomed to sit through a tacky offering from the director of groundbreaking fare like MY BEAUTIFUL LAUNDERETTE and the writer of the gut wrenching BENT. I began to breathe easy shortly after as Judi Dench took to the screen as Laura Henderson. As a recently widowed lady of England’s high society, Dench delivers a sharp, snappy performance that had me jerking out embarrassingly loud fits of laughter while she managed to maintain the tenderness and hope of a woman looking for meaning in a life without her great loves, her husband and her son who died in the first world war. At a friend’s suggestion, she takes up a hobby to pass the time after her husband passes and after passing herself on embroidery and charity work, she settles on a project that is nothing short of extravagant and therefore nothing short of fitting for Mrs. Henderson; she buys a theatre in London’s West End. Though the venture starts out promising, the fickle patrons quickly turn away and Mrs. Henderson decides to do what any proper lady would; she suggests putting naked girls on the stage.

The nature of the theatre can be one of spontaneity and surprise, especially for those who have no idea what they’ve signed on for. Though this energizes the theatre experience both in the audience and backstage, it does not make for a solid film. Sherman’s script is without any consistent story arch, leaving the viewer wondering where this is all going and knowing that the answer is really nowhere. The only constant is the theatre itself and subplots run rampant in these wings and dressing rooms. Much like the “Revuedeville” show that runs all day at the Windmill theatre, these trivial plots arise and resolve themselves before making way for the next. There is expected banter and emotional tension between Mrs. Henderson and her theatre manager, Mr. Van Damme (Bob Hoskins); there is the inevitable controversy over having naked girls on stage; there is even a rising star with a frozen heart who manages to thaw it out in time to fall for a soldier, get pregnant and lose him. The only thing any of these situations has in common is that they all take place in the Windmill Theatre. And all that manages to save this disconnected story from feeling like a mismatched chorus line are the lively, exuberant performances from all the players. They wear their awareness of being naughty very well and parlay it into an amusing and jubilant show while forming the foundation of a family, like only the theatre can, that the audience both roots and hopes for in between their hollers.

In order for the naked ladies to take the stage, they must remain perfectly still, like works of art in a museum. While naturally hesitant at first, the ladies shed their garb under the guidance of Mr. Van Damme. After all, this is England in 1937. Such things were just not done. Mr. Van Damme asks his girls, and throws the question out at any prudes in the audience as well, “Why do you think God gave you your bits and pieces? So you could be ashamed of them?” He goes on to tell them all that they are works of art. And while he plays the occasional prank that forces the ladies to move on stage when they are not allowed to, he does treat them with the respect and admiration any work of art deserves. The ladies are never exploited and are always incorporated into the acts like set pieces to enhance the song being sung or the dance being danced. It is always about the build up and not about the pay off. In other words, it is the difference between baring your bosom and baring your breast. And while the promise of naked girls may get the people in the seats, it is the show itself they leave with. Perhaps the same can be said of the experience for some of the folks I saw this film with.

MRS HENDERSON PRESENTS is inspired by true events and reality must at one point interrupt the fun and games. A few years in to the Windmill’s run, Germany begins bombing England. An overwhelming feeling of helplessness falls on the theatre and Frears poses another question to his audience. What is the point of some good, clean fun in troubled times? Though Frears’ decision to cut back and forth between archival war footage of bombings and fighter planes and the impact of these images on the players and patrons of Mrs. Henderson’s theatre is awkward at best, it still manages to make a point we all know well even more relevant. The show must go on. Why? Because there must be hope that a life we all know and love will return after the fear and we will feel safe once again. In a simple, and dare I say rather naked moment, one “Revuedeville” star asks, “Who’d ever dreamed that standing on a stage without any clothes on would feel like the safest place to be?” Any revue is bound to have elements that don’t work or take you out of the moment but it’s moments like this and many other hilarious ones that make it all worthwhile and catch you off guard, as if you were caught unexpectedly with your pants down.