I've seen Yorgos Lanthimos' film, The Lobster (2015), and really enjoyed it. It had a unique blend of absurdist humor and deep-seated tragedy. I missed his The Killing of a Sacred Deer (2017), but heard wonderful reviews.
I've been a fan of Olivia Colman since I saw her pop up in British sketch comedy shows years ago. Tracking her career has been a treat: her comedic chops have served her well and sharpened her more dramatic work.
When Colman took the Best Leading Actress statue at the Oscars last weekend, for her role as Queen Anne in Lanthimos' The Favourite, I decided that I should really carve out some time to go and see it. Lo and behold, it started playing in town (probably exactly because of that Oscar win).
So off we went, the wife and I, to see The Favourite.
I. What Is It?
This is the story of Queen Anne and her favorite, Lady Sara of Marlborough. Sara is the power behind the throne: Anne is a broken, sickly woman, ill-suited to the task of monarchy. When Sara's cousin, Abigail, arrives, the power dynamic begins to shift. Sara and Abigail enter a dangerous game of confidence for the Queen's affections. Who will win? Who will be the favo(u)rite?II. Absolutely Beautifully Constructed
You would be hard pressed to find a film as beautiful as this one from 2018.
The costumes are jaw-droppingly constructed. Sandy Powell's designs aid character development, and help establish the lush, ludicrous world of Queen Anne's court. There are dashes of modern fabrics and styles that lend the whole aesthetic a slightly anomalous feel. Queen Ann practically drowns in fabric; Lady Marlborough often wears trousers and sharply pointed tri-corn hats; Abigail's dresses start basic enough, but quickly become sharp with hard angles and the eccentric touches of a woman enmeshed in lavish aristocracy; and let's not forget Lord Harley's ever-expanding wigs, which track his power: they start pale and minor, and quickly explode off his head in rivulets of tight curls, flushing a ruddy blonde by film's end.
The film is lovingly, compellingly shot, too. Robbie Ryan's photography helps tell Lanthimos' madcap story: his sharp camera pans, dizzying tracking shots and use of the fish-eye lens help the proceedings feel wrong, and manic, but gorgeous and intricate. I especially loved the way he used camera angles to help insinuate power dynamics: whoever has power is often shot from below, while the ones they lord over are shot seated, at eye level, or slightly from above. In the final shot of Queen Anne, the camera peers up from her navel, distorting her already stroke-slackened features into a monstrous visage. Cheers also, for the use of light and shadow: large pools of light beam in through open windows, and candles flicker in the darkness. It makes the court feel like an opulent haunted castle.
And the sound. Lord, the sound. The gentle crackle of a burning candle, the padding feet of scampering bunnies, and the lightning crack of black powder rifles all swirl together in a distinct, crisp soundscape. Komeil S. Hosseini's score is also a thing of wonder: it is lush and jubilant, but quickly turns to tight, heart-chilling simplicity. There are times where the movie feels like a silly British comedy of manners, and it is, and there are times where the film feels like a horror film, which it also is.
Deborah Davis and Tony McNamara's script is playful, as well. It swells with period style and bombastic language flair, but has foul-mouthed anachronisms peppered in to accentuate and emphasize when necessary.
This film feels like a gorgeous painting come to life.
The costumes are jaw-droppingly constructed. Sandy Powell's designs aid character development, and help establish the lush, ludicrous world of Queen Anne's court. There are dashes of modern fabrics and styles that lend the whole aesthetic a slightly anomalous feel. Queen Ann practically drowns in fabric; Lady Marlborough often wears trousers and sharply pointed tri-corn hats; Abigail's dresses start basic enough, but quickly become sharp with hard angles and the eccentric touches of a woman enmeshed in lavish aristocracy; and let's not forget Lord Harley's ever-expanding wigs, which track his power: they start pale and minor, and quickly explode off his head in rivulets of tight curls, flushing a ruddy blonde by film's end.
The film is lovingly, compellingly shot, too. Robbie Ryan's photography helps tell Lanthimos' madcap story: his sharp camera pans, dizzying tracking shots and use of the fish-eye lens help the proceedings feel wrong, and manic, but gorgeous and intricate. I especially loved the way he used camera angles to help insinuate power dynamics: whoever has power is often shot from below, while the ones they lord over are shot seated, at eye level, or slightly from above. In the final shot of Queen Anne, the camera peers up from her navel, distorting her already stroke-slackened features into a monstrous visage. Cheers also, for the use of light and shadow: large pools of light beam in through open windows, and candles flicker in the darkness. It makes the court feel like an opulent haunted castle.
And the sound. Lord, the sound. The gentle crackle of a burning candle, the padding feet of scampering bunnies, and the lightning crack of black powder rifles all swirl together in a distinct, crisp soundscape. Komeil S. Hosseini's score is also a thing of wonder: it is lush and jubilant, but quickly turns to tight, heart-chilling simplicity. There are times where the movie feels like a silly British comedy of manners, and it is, and there are times where the film feels like a horror film, which it also is.
Deborah Davis and Tony McNamara's script is playful, as well. It swells with period style and bombastic language flair, but has foul-mouthed anachronisms peppered in to accentuate and emphasize when necessary.
This film feels like a gorgeous painting come to life.
III. A Powerful Triangle
Olivia Colman won her Oscar for her role as Queen Anne, and she deserved it. Anne is by turns a tantrum-throwing child, a broken woman, a proud monarch, and a giddy lover. Colman's eyes burn with emotion and a long story that we don't get to see that has brought this woman to this point. She is often bound to a wheelchair, or stuck in a pillowed bed, but turns in a vibrant performance nonetheless.
Rachel Weisz is confident and assured as Lady Marlborough. She is a woman who learned to take advantage wherever she could, and wields great power because of it. Weisz never lets her be simple, either: she schemes and takes advantage, but also fights from below after being laid low by her rival. You root for her, before you remember that she's a monster of a different feather.
And then there's Emma Stone's Abigail. She is a woman that knew wealth and station, and fell from it. Now she's trying to scrabble her way back to some semblance of prestige. It is for this reason that she triumphs: she is desperate, and Marlborough has never been truly desperate. Stone imbues Abigail with a fighter's spirit, and makes her hard to argue with. When she notes that clinging to morality will be little comfort when she's stuck selling her ass to syphilitic sailors in a whorehouse, one sees her choice all too clearly.
The film is anchored in these three women, and they keep the story cracking with energy.
Let's not sleep on Nicholas Hoult, either: in a film that focuses on its women, and relegates its men to cardboard standee simplicity, Hoult's Lord Harley is a pleasure to behold. He is foppish, with a mean streak: a man who holds his power and is constantly climbing the ladder.
Yorgos Lanthimos has a wonderful eye as a director, and knows how to balance comedic elements with dramatic tension. This film defies genre: it is hilarious, but it is also tense, and it is also heart-breaking, and it is also terrifying. That Lanthimos can navigate all of these flavors without letting the film lose its own identity is the mark of a master filmmaker.
This movie is a minute shy of two hours, but it feels lengthier than that. I would have liked to see a hundred-minute cut of this movie. Especially when it is so emotionally demanding that it makes one feel drained and exhausted at its end.
Rachel Weisz is confident and assured as Lady Marlborough. She is a woman who learned to take advantage wherever she could, and wields great power because of it. Weisz never lets her be simple, either: she schemes and takes advantage, but also fights from below after being laid low by her rival. You root for her, before you remember that she's a monster of a different feather.
And then there's Emma Stone's Abigail. She is a woman that knew wealth and station, and fell from it. Now she's trying to scrabble her way back to some semblance of prestige. It is for this reason that she triumphs: she is desperate, and Marlborough has never been truly desperate. Stone imbues Abigail with a fighter's spirit, and makes her hard to argue with. When she notes that clinging to morality will be little comfort when she's stuck selling her ass to syphilitic sailors in a whorehouse, one sees her choice all too clearly.
The film is anchored in these three women, and they keep the story cracking with energy.
Let's not sleep on Nicholas Hoult, either: in a film that focuses on its women, and relegates its men to cardboard standee simplicity, Hoult's Lord Harley is a pleasure to behold. He is foppish, with a mean streak: a man who holds his power and is constantly climbing the ladder.
IV. The Old Gender Role Switch-a-roo
It is nice to see a film where women are not beholden to men. I mean, the film points out the ways that society forces them to be (Abigail talks at length about rape and abuse, not as a victim, but as a matter of course), but these are powerful women in their own right. The men in this film are often idiotic, shallow cartoons. The women have depth and complexity. It is fascinating to see a film where men are treated the way female characters have been treated in years past. And that treatment serves the story, here: these men are not important. The story is Anne's, and Sara's and Abigail's.V. A Fine Balance
V. Perhaps Too Long
VIII. Should You See It?
Miscellany
- The film was largely lit naturally, with available sunlight and candlelight.- Colman gained 35 pounds for the role.
- Sandy Powell intentionally worked in anachronistic elements into her costume designs: laser cut vinyl and repurposed denim were worked into various designs. All of the costumes and wigs were constructed from scratch.
- This is Lanthimos' first film where he doesn't direct a script he wrote.
- With her recent win, Colman makes the film's trio of women all Oscar winners.
- There is only one time where two male characters have a conversation without a female present, barely passing a kind of reverse Bechdel test. That makes me laugh.
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