Mary Queen of Scots (2019) (Review)


There is always room for a period drama or two over any award season and Mary Queen of Scots is one of this year's handful. Marking the directorial debut of Josie Rourke, the historical drama examines the titular Mary's return to the throne of her homeland as hostility rages between Catholic Scotland and Protestant England, presenting a period in the United Kingdom's history as torn in two as it is today.

On her return from France following the death of her husband in 1561, Mary, Catholic Queen of Scotland (Saoirse Ronan), arrives in a nation tired of living in England’s shadow. With her cousin, Queen Elizabeth (Margot Robbie), unable to provide an heir, and both courts showing sign of disarray, conflict soon arises with each queen eager to prove their autonomy surrounded by men that try to rule them. With the crown threatened, the cousins quickly understand that only one can ascend the throne as tensions continue between Protestant England and Catholic Scotland.

Simply put, Mary Queen of Scots would not be the film it is without the extraordinary pair of powerhouse performances at its heart. Together, Ronan and Robbie elevate Mary Queen of Scots from a middle-of-the-road historical-biopic to a far more prestigious, emotionally-engaging affair.  Wobbly accent aside, Ronan does a fine job in the titular role; she approaches Mary far more technically, methodical but magnetic as the young Scottish queen. 

 Robbie, in a supporting capacity, steals the show though. Lacing a great deal of humanity into an infamously prickly individual, Robbie breaks Elizabeth just enough so that we can see the queen of England's crippling vulnerability without ever diluting her sense of sovereignty. With Ronan it seems to be one or the other - perhaps due to the demands of her narrative arc, which requires most of her emotions to be kept behind closed doors - while Robbie skates between both rather seamlessly.  Their shared scene is a clear highlight, even as the film goes off-text, with Ronan arriving at the middle ground Robbie flourishes within during the film's incredible crowning achievement.

Besides the two female performers, Scots' MVP is Max Richter. Responsible for the sweeping, ravishing score that so brilliantly carries the piece, the collection is a transcendental composition, packed with majesty and grandeur. Drums, harps and various other string instrumentals are stunningly used, with a feminine touch to the tracks that so deftly convey the important gender themes. It can feel fantastically foreboding at times - alleviating the editing's diluted intensity - and almost ethereal at others, gorgeously composed and assembled. It is one of the year's very best, most recognisable pieces of work.

With such laudable performances, the rest of the film is a rather mixed bag comparatively. Lusciously-drawn and richly-illustrated, the detailed costume and production design render it a visual might that looks every inch the period part. With pain-stakingly detailed gowns and sets that capture a real sense of scale, the tale of sisterhood and power is enhanced through these era-immersing flourishes, with director Josie Rourke doing an impressive job of mirroring the two queen's situations through symmetry and symbolism. 

Beau Willimon's screenplay is cast between a Shakesperian-coded epic and a contemporary take focused on themes of feminism and gender, attempting to nail down the zeitgeist - but the two do not always align so perfectly. It seems caught between wanting to embrace its history and reject it, with the effort to accentuate relevant message to a modern-day audience forgoing historical accuracy; dramatic license is permissible but in trying to emphasise the contemporary relevance, it sometimes loses the intensity of the real story at hand. The queens can occasionally appear like pawns to the wider messages the film wishes to convey, rather ironic for a feature that places autonomy so central. On top of some poor pacing decisions, the pedestrian script is what holds Mary Queen of Scots back, with the progression of time and events clumsily-handled, and the spoken exposition heavy throughout.

Another issue plaguing the feature is with the editorial decisions, a tell-tale sign of a debut director at the helm - no less, one more familiar with stage and theatre than the filmic medium. In deciding to begin the story with the fateful execution (grab a history book if you consider this a spoiler), the film loses some of its dramatic urgency almost immediately; when we return in the closing moments, it doesn't come close to achieving the impact it should. It's never dull but it does plod along at times, mainly because that conclusion feels so spelt out.  It's an entirely perplexing decision and while it may be to end the film on a more hopeful, uplifting note, it does so at the expense of the film's defining, most emotionally-captivating moment.

All told, Mary Queen of Scots is a mixed bag but the two charged and powerful performances at the core tip the scale in its favour. There is a clear attempt to infuse contemporary, feminist themes into the story and while it doesn’t quite make the transition from the 16th century completely seamlessly,  it is nevertheless a handsome feature with tremendous performances and gorgeous music to boot. With more experience (and a stronger script), Rourke could have really nailed Mary Queen of Scots but for a first-time feature, this is promising work. It's not as good as hoped, but neither is it as bad as feared; everyone can keep their heads.


★★★★✬☆
(6.5/10)

SummaryOperatic filmmaking but pedestrian storytelling, more works in Mary Queen of Scots than doesn’t: a film clearly elevated by stunning work from Saoirse Ronan and especially Margot Robbie, both of whom evoke prestige in this otherwise middle-of-the-road historical drama.