P olitical intrigue, mass-media manipulation, tradition vs. modernization. A nation's grief, a family's shame, a woman held captive by her own exalted rank: For such a quiet little movie, "The Queen" sure has a lot going on.
And it goes on splendidly. Borne with grace and honor on the back of Helen Mirren's astounding title performance, "The Queen" manages to encompass the personal and political with both depth and grace. It examines grief as both a national event and a personal responsibility; it juxtaposes a nation's heritage with its needs; and it questions the core value and truth of contemporary celebrity.
It also keeps the viewer absolutely glued to the screen with hardly a gun being fired or fist being thrown. The central battle in this film is recognizable to any member of western culture, British or not. It's a battle to sift image from truth, to find when emotion trumps honor, and to discern when leaders need to join hands with those they lead.
In 1997, an upstart named Tony Blair (Michael Sheen) has just been elected prime minister, promising to modernize the country. And Diana, the ex-wife of Charles, the Prince of Wales (Alex Jennings), has just been hounded to death by photographers.
The family, led by Queen Elizabeth II (Mirren), is away at the royal country retreat.
For them, Diana's death is mainly a continuation of the messy business she has been for the past several years. She is Charles' ex-wife, the mother of the future king of England, but she is not mourned.
Director Stephen Frears ("Mrs.
Henderson Presents") moves back and forth, mixing documentary and narrative footage, between the outpouring of grief from around the world and the family's icy lack of response.
The Royals are surrounded by pomp and protocols, cut off from any semblance of normal life, and can't imagine what the fuss is about. Especially since the celebrity Diana they see admired on TV bears little resemblance to the real woman they knew intimately.
But pressure from the press, and from Blair, builds. The Queen has to face the fact that, thanks to her royal distance from the common man, she is no longer the most loved celebrity in England. That person has just died, and to regain her own popularity, Elizabeth must lie and express grief.
For the most part, the Royals come off as a group of bumblers and indulged twits. But Frears, writer Peter Morgan and Mirren find both fragility and amazing, controlled strength in Elizabeth, despite her blinders. In the end, she knows her time has come and gone, and if she wants to remain relevant, she will have to reach out.
It is a momentous decision, and the sacrifice that a figurehead such as Elizabeth makes is made crystal clear in "The Queen." The heavyweight of a throne has never been more delicately portrayed.
Copyright 2006 The Detroit News.
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