A ROYAL AFFAIR (En kongelig affære) B+
Denmark Sweden Czech Republic (137 mi) 2012 ‘Scope d: Nikolaj Arcel
Denmark Sweden Czech Republic (137 mi) 2012 ‘Scope d: Nikolaj Arcel
Anyone who has seen a Karl Theodor Dreyer film knows exactly
what this film is about, especially the corrupt power of the Church which in
the mid 18th century still believed in torture, heresy, and fear mongering,
spreading vicious rumors to undermine any threat to their own power, creating
such a repressive, punishment oriented society that they were viewed with
disdain by the rest of neighboring Europe which was undergoing an Age of Enlightenment, led by radical
free-thinking French such as Voltaire and Jean-Jacques Rousseau that endorsed
individual freedoms over tyrannical and oppressive regimes, ideas that sparked
American independence while also leading to The storming of the Bastille, which
opened the doors of the French Revolution. But while the rest of the world was enjoying
newly discovered freedoms, Denmark remained entrenched in a corrupt monarchy
run by the repressive regime of the Lutheran Orthodox Church which advocated tortuous
punishments. This is the background of
the film, a kind of Danish Dr. Zhivago,
told with the same epic sweep where a doomed and illicit romance is set against
the backdrop of history. Shot in ‘Scope
by Rasmus Videbaek, the luscious visual composition along with the largesse of
the natural landscape impresses from the outset, where one can’t help but think
it’s been ages since Hollywood produced a movie with such a glorious look to
it. But of course, they’d need big name
stars that would cost a fortune, any one of which would cost more than the
entire budget of this film, as they’d never invest in anything less than proven
star material, yet here the Danes have mastered the epic historical romance for
a little more than $8 million dollars, easily making it look better than most
$100 million dollar Hollywood movies.
That’s likely the reason the film is one of the 5 nominated Best Foreign
Films, a gorgeous costume drama that actually has a superb story to tell, based
on two novels, Per Olov Enquist's The
Visit Of The Royal Physician, read ahead of time by both the director and
fellow screenwriter Rasmus Heisterberg, but owned by a publishing company that
refused to sell the rights for the movie, as they were looking to negotiate a
better deal translating the novel into English, so screenwriting credit goes to
Bodil Steensen-Leth's erotic novel Prinsesse
Af Blodet. What one comes away with
after having viewed this film is the severity of the subject material, feeling
positively Shakespearean, based on real events, one of the great stories in
Danish history, all the more impressive the way these extraordinary actors make
it come alive onscreen.
The director is known for having written the screenplay, adapted
from the Stieg Larsson novel, for the Swedish version of THE GIRL WITH THE
DRAGON TATTOO (2009), much superior to the American David Fincher version, in
my view, as it best captures the depth and interior strength of the characters,
which is certainly the captivating allure of the immensely popular novel. He has done the same here, where the film
begins and ends with Alicia Vikander, who won the Swedish Best Actress Award several
years ago for her performance in Pure
(Till det som är vackert) (2009), playing Caroline Mathilde, a gorgeous and
highly educated member of the British royal family. Reminiscent of Sofia Coppola's MARIE
ANTOINETTE (2006), her family has arranged a marriage to the young King of
Denmark, someone she’s never met, making her Queen of Denmark at the age of
fifteen, where the opening landscape sequences frame the horse-driven coaches
and the royal entourage as tiny objects at the bottom of the screen,
overwhelmed by the majestic beauty that surrounds them. To her utter surprise, the man to whom she
has been betrothed, Christian VII (Mikkel Boe Følsgaard), is mentally
deficient, not overly so to the point of incompetence, but his infantile
interests and crude, self-centered manner, subject to embarrassing outbursts, keep
him secluded behind the walls of the royal palace where the nature of his
condition is kept secret. When they
first meet, he has no interest whatsoever in marriage, but prefers the
entertainment of watching plays and spending all his time with women of the
flesh, enjoying a life of pampered decadence.
When it’s clear she has brains, talent, and much to admire, exactly what
he lacks, he angrily warns her “Don’t steal my light!” as he needs to be the
center of attention, with people constantly at his beck and call, where being
King is more a game he plays, a theatrical role he relishes, while she’s called
upon to display the aristocratic reserve and proper etiquette and manner of a royal
head of household. He sarcastically calls
her “Mommy” throughout, as she’s constantly admonishing him for spending so
much time in bordellos, eventually refusing to see him altogether, as it’s
simply a waste of time. While this is
the surface reality, there is an ominous underlying tone in Caroline’s
narration, where she is sometime in the future writing letters to her children,
explaining the horrific circumstances as to why she hasn’t seen them. These thoughts, however, are revealed
sparingly, yet it interestingly provides insight into the present.
Mads Mikkelsen plays Johann Friedrich Struensee, the son of a
well known yet highly conservative German judge, seen as little more than a
country doctor treating the poor at the outset, but we quickly discover he’s a
bold and radical proponent of the Enlightenment freedoms, exactly the opposite
of what his father stands for, so he keeps a low profile, writing materials
anonymously. His superior intellect and
elegant manner, however, lands him a position as the personal physician to
Christian VII, gaining his trust instantly by being able to quote Shakespeare,
becoming his friend and trusted ally, though Christian views him as his
favorite playmate. Over time, Dr.
Struensee wins over the royal court, having a positive effect on the King, who
has fewer moments of outrageous instability, which impresses the Queen, who is
struck by how he managed to sneak in censored books into his personal library,
reading them all, quickly becoming intimate friends. It must be mentioned that while the King is
freely screwing every harlot in the county several times over, the Queen is isolated
by duty and custom, raising a young son, but leading an extraordinarily
repressive existence where she has little social life to speak of. The intelligent conversations with Struensee
feel like a godsend to her, a rare opportunity, leading to a scandalous secret
affair. This opened the doors for
radical reforms, where the King, in a stroke of momentary clarity, literally
dismissed the oppositional cabinet members loyal to the Church, allowing
Struensee to craft new laws, eliminating censorship, abolishing torture, free
labor, and the slave trade, while assigning land to peasant farmers, reforms
that captured the attention of the rest of Europe, as if Denmark had come out
of the Dark Ages. When the Queen had another
baby, however, almost certainly Struensee’s, it created a scandal and their
brief window of freedom was coming to a close, acknowledging they
underestimated the cruelty of the opposition, who began spreading vile lies and
xenophobic rumors about the German’s influence, all designed to reassert what
they claimed was their legitimate authority, eventually bribing their way back
into power, arresting both Struensee and the Queen, sending him to the
guillotine while exiling her for the rest of her life, but only after taking
away her children. While Gabriel Yared
and Cyrille Aufort’s lushly scored music adds elegance and depth to the
proceedings, it’s a riveting tale, told with exquisite detail, perhaps overly
long, but the severity of tone is in stark contrast to that brief flurry of
freedom and happiness where the doors are suddenly opened to a new dawn, only
to be slammed shut again, torture and censorships quickly reinstated, leading
Denmark once again back into the darkness.
