The Favourite
It’s difficult to watch Yorgos Lanthimos’s “The Favourite” and not think of Stanley Kubrick’s period epic, “Barry Lyndon.” That said, it’s also reductive, and doesn’t really give “The Favourite” credit for the sly, sensual pleasures it has in store as it’s own story of opportunism and self-destruction unfolds. I’ve only seen two of Lanthimos’s prior films, “Dogtooth” and “The Killing of the Sacred Deer,” and he’s been a tough filmmaker to appreciate. The way he handles the screenplay by Deborah Davis and Tony McNamara, however, makes me think it’s time to look further into his work, and see what I can see in it.
Lanthimos’s film takes place in 1708 during the British war with France. Occupying the throne is Queen Anne (Olivia Colman), whose health is frail as a result of gout. She is advised by Sarah Churchill (Rachel Weisz), who often takes the lead on matters of politics as Anna would rather spend her days living a life of activity involving lobster racing and caring for her rabbits. The third main woman to this story is Abigail Hill (Emma Stone), Sarah’s cousin, whom she has invited to work as a maid after Abigail’s living as a lady has been upended. When she finds herself with an audience with Anne, however, she will be the one upending the court, leading to much turmoil between Anne and Sarah, whom have been secret lovers, as well.
It’s fascinating how this holiday/Oscar season has two different period epics on display centered on the political dynamics of women ruling countries, and equally fascinating how one succeeds while the other just spins its wheels. “Mary Queen of Scots” is well-produced, and gives Saoirse Ronan and Margot Robbie some fine material to play, but the film in general is just good, and doesn’t really dig underneath those women to see what makes them tick. “The Favourite” gives Anne, Sarah and Abigail a chance to fully form as individuals, and the different scenes and pairings play a critical role in the film’s success. First up is Anne and Sarah, who are partners in ruling the country- with Sarah being someone who uses her position to influence the Queen’s view on the war going on- and secret ones in the bedroom, but the latter is all about these two women in love with one another, and nothing more. Enter Abigail, who is the “Barry Lyndon” of this film, so to speak, but I wouldn’t consider her as amoral as Kubrick’s protagonist, played by Ryan O’Neil, in this film. She is certainly an opportunist, but like Sarah and Anne, she represents another sort of living for women in the 18th Century, and the ways society used and abused women, especially when they were either in power, or around power. Abigail has selfish motivations for getting herself in close with Anne, but it’s a means to an end for her as she tries to earn back the status that her family’s downfall caused her to lose. There are men in the film, like Nicholas Hoult’s Harley (who is trying to convince Queen Anne to broker peace with France, and sees an alluring way to do that by getting gossip from Abigail, who soon becomes Sarah’s personal assistant) and Joe Alwyn’s Masham (who is bawdy, but wants to court Abigail), but they are only as important to the narrative as the women in the film require them to be. All three women are wonderful in their roles, with Colman and Weisz standing out, and Stone providing a devious wedge in between the two’s relationship.
Lanthimos’s film starts as a relatively standard period drama setup, but once Abigail becomes a key part of the drama, the three leading ladies take Davis and McNamara’s script and, under the watchful direction of Lanthimos, bring it to biting, brutal life as the politics- both legislative and gender- of the day takes center stage. The film is a wonderful artistic statement, be it in the costume design and art direction, the cinematography by Robbie Ryan (which almost seems to take its lighting cues from “Barry Lyndon” when it comes to natural lighting) or the classical soundtrack Lanthimos compiles for his story. This is one of the most breathtaking artistic visions of the year, fully realized, and at the service of a film that lures us in with one thing before turning into a dark-witted comedy of women whom use their power, or their desire for it, in ways that are admirable for the age they live in, but ultimately will be their undoing, as well.
