Spencer (London Film Festival) (2021) (Review)

 


Spencer arrives at an incredibly interesting moment as, no more so than in the United Kingdom, anti-royal sentiment is increasing. Even before the pandemic, but perhaps exacerbated by it, monarchy frustrations were being voiced more loudly as society becomes more aware of the class and social differences it exposes. And while Pablo Larrain's Spencer could have capitalised on this, and does undoubtedly realise the role the family played in Diana Spencer's public dissection, it remains so explicitly within the headspace of Diana Spencer that they - if not the trauma they have inflicted - become an afterthought.

Described as an "imagining of what may have happened in those few fateful days", Spencer takes place over during a Christmas at Sandringham. With her marriage to Prince Charles clearly unsalvagable, Diana finds herself unable to play their game much longer. Starring a transformative Kristen Stewart in the titular role, with a supporting cast featuring Timothy Spall, Jack Farthing, Sean Harris and Sally Hawkins, Spencer follows Jackie in Larrain's unofficial voyage into the lives of tragic historical figures.

A dark, haunting and bold vision, Spencer is not your typical biographical picture. Closer, instead, to a psychological horror that places character work is front and centre, it is more akin to the style and tone to the likes of Jackie and Black Swan, films that place their subject under a microscope to an almost uncomfortable degree. Such intimacy could verge on voyeurism but under the immaculate control and direction of Larrain, it rarely creeps into this territory, remaining instead wholly transfixing and deeply sympathetic. 

Aided by the beautiful furnishings of art and costume departments that immerse you fully into December, 1991, as well as a gorgeous score by Jonny Greenwood who enhances the haunting and often dark atmosphere ten-fold, Larrain is never afraid to break from reality, approaching his depiction in a more cerebral, psychological sense. Cinematographer Claire Mathon's camerawork is beautifully evocative, framed as if telling a ghost story - wide shots emphasise the scale and loneliness of Diana's environment, while tighter angles depict a claustrophobia she tries to desperately escape. With the film's visual language so poised, it helps the film feel so beautifully controlled despite our central figures somewhat frantic plight.

Kristen Stewart amazes in a performance bound to earn her a mantlepiece of accolades this award season. Once again demonstrating that women tend to approach these real-life figures with greater respect and understanding than their male, imitative counterparts have done so recently, Stewart nails the mannerisms without it ever feeling like a straight impersonation. Peppering enough unique flourishes and individual quirks throughout the performance that means she can imprint her own signature on the role, Stewart elevates her interpretation to the upper echelon of biographical performances. And while it may appear overly measured to begin with, it feels purposeful - making her gradual unravelling all the more powerful to witness.

While this is certain Stewart's star vehicle, she is surrounded by a strong ensemble who uplift her. Sally Hawkins' Maggie possesses a heart that only one of Britain's most beloved talents could bring to the picture, allowing for the most honest version of Diana to come to the forefront. Similarly worthy of praise are the young actors playing Willaim and Harry: Jack Nielen and Freddie Spry are on hand to support Stewart throughout the film's most tenderhearted moments, with the relationship between the mother and her two sons often being the lynchpin of the entire film.

If the cracks are anywhere in Spencer it lies in Steven Knight's screenplay, a piece of writing that should entrust the people bringing it to life more. At times bluntly spelling out situations that would have been improved by a touch of ambiguity, or simply belief in the film's images to convey emotions and developments, Knight's script is a couple of drafts away from the level the rest of the film is working at.  But he cannot be criticised too harshly, with the majority of the risks he takes in this end up paying off extremely well; the ending, for example, offers a surprisingly hopeful note that may be temporary in the grand scheme of things, but Diana - and the audience - deserve that glimmering moment of happiness it provides, alongside the obvious of sadness given our inevitable knowledge of a tragic end years the line.

Indebted to the unique direction and framing from director Pablo Larrain, Spencer is a boldly uncompromising, heartfelt and layered vision, so evidently stitched together with care and respect for its titular figure. Sold by a tremendous, career-best work from Kristen Stewart who loses herself in the role the further it progresses, and terrific behind-the-camera talent who help create scale to a very personal, intimate character study, Spencer is on all fronts a success and a stunning tribute to Diana.