From the rise to Power to the conquest of Authority ...

Rating: 9/10 (2 November 2011)

Period films have always been unfairly underrated. My guess is that because of the profusion of historical movies from Hollywood's Golden Age, we've grown with the idea that they were more an excuse for displays of flamboyance, thrilling sword fights and epic battle sequences or exhilarating "Technicolorgies" than true character studies or introspective examinations into the notions of corruption, integrity, or more generally power: whether it's about a rise, a downfall, or both.
Thankfully, the injustice has been fixed, and despite a few exceptions, all the recent period dramas have been a triumph on the field of intelligent storytelling, highlighting the intimate correlation between History and Story (the same word in some languages) something that mirrors our Human condition and raises the notion of knowledge to a universal level. And the power of "Elizabeth" is to tackle contemporary issues hidden in the austere and dark walls of splendid castles, carrying all the paranoid atmosphere of these plotting times. This is the greatest interest of period movies: their appeal comes from both the lack of visual modernity and the inner modernity of the topics they deal with. In Shekhar Kapur's "Elizabeth", it's simply about the rise to power.
"Elizabeth" invites us to comprehend how a young woman, Protestant in an England, not only Catholic but also intolerant toward those who rejected the Pope, as firmly illustrated in a gut- wrenching bonfire burning scene, how this person, outcast in so many levels, took over the power, and begun a reign that would last 40 years, and turns England, the prey of Europe's most powerful monarchies, into the dominant Nation in Europe. It's not just a woman in a world of men, but also a woman in probably the most vulnerable and fragile moment of England's history. She would take the power after the death of her stepsister, daughter of Henry VIII, but the point was to keep this power, and this was indeed a life and death situation for both Elizabeth, and England.
In a way, Elizabeth embodied the situation of England in an ironic but inspirational symbiosis. The most relevant example is the invasion of Scotland by Mary of Guise' French troops coinciding with a proposal to marry the Duke of Anjou, the nephew of the same Mary. Elizabeth would be less married than raped in her honor and she's aware of her dilemma and how it echoes the situation of her beloved people. But the key of this torment is to conquer, before the power, the certitude that she IS the one who rules the country, and the game isn't won yet. As it's said before, all she has are "enemies", she has a lover too, but the line between the sincerity of his love and his secret ambition are thin to the limit of imperceptibility.
Elizabeth's other dilemma is with the bishops, a powerful Catholic congregation refusing to pay allegiance to the queen who dared to deny the Pope's influence. Probably the first turning point of Elizabeth's rise to power is her first confrontation with the bishops, where she explains the reasons of her attitude toward the Pope, how can one be faithful to two countries in the same time. As she said, not without a delighted irony, it's all a matter of 'common sense'. Whether she gained the sympathy of her audience is not the point, at least, she's assessing her independence as a religious person, a first step, before assessing her independence as a woman-to-marry, then a woman, and final step: a Head of State, from Elizabeth to the Virgin Queen, a long process occupying the first two thirds of the film.
And the force of the film is to never detach itself from the plot's basis, which is to understand the progressive domestication of a throne, of a country, which is like a savage horse that refuses to be ridden. And never falling into simplification, it takes its time to depict all the interactions and influences that would forge the growing authority of Elizabeth. It's about succession and conquest of authority, which is the cement that builds the durability of power. And when we consider how both Elizabeth and England were when the film begun, it becomes one of the most interesting character studies and evolutions in cinema's recent history.
It would even remind of another classic: "The Godfather". Both movies are about a character so underestimated because of an outcast status and apparent weakness (being a civilian/ being a woman) that the conquest of authority is even more captivating. As viewers, watching these films where an underdog becomes a ruthless but charismatic powerful figure is as delightful as reading some pages of Machiavelli's "Prince". And this is not a fortuitous comparison: when in the last chapters, you read how some cruel acts can help to consolidate a power, you can't help but think of "Elizabeth"'s climax that resonates like the "Godfather"'s Baptism Massacre sequence.
And after the climax, the movie takes a new dimension, as we don't just understand the nature of power, but of monarchy. Why this appeal for kings and queens? Because God is so untouchable that we need human figures that incarnate this power in the face of Earth. It almost sounds heretic but if you read the Constitution of most monarchies, you're always to find the mark of religion, and whether this representative power has declined, kings and queens have always been a model of metaphysical fascination. And when they commit cruel acts, the veneration is so strong and the adoration so sincere that we would all find convenient alibis, for people allowed to act as a God-like figure.
This is what being a Queen is about and probably the words implicitly written by the last scene where Elizabeth sits in the throne. And Cate Blanchett, 'Blanche' as the impressive whiteness that painted the Queen's new 'virginity' is simply perfect in this powerful examination of the roots of power.