(2.5 / 4)
This historical drama is worth the price of admission alone for Margot Robbie’s transformative performance. However, plotting issues and overly imaginative historical inaccuracies get in the way and prevent Mary Queen of Scots from fully shining as a compelling character study.
Mary Queen of Scots, directed by Josie Rourke, is largely being marketed as a clash between two distinct queens who both believe themselves to be the rightful ruler of a divided country. With a screenplay from the former showrunner of House of Cards, Beau Willimon, it seems reasonable to expect a series of political maneuvers and machinations from each opposing monarch until a victor is ultimately crowned. The film, however, is largely not the story being advertised, as the film instead offers a feminist slant on historical events which cleverly plays with audience expectations of the ensuing conflict. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing as the film is suitably thought-provoking and riveting at times, even if the story is not without its issues.
It is the year 1569 and 18-year-old Mary Stuart (Saoirse Ronan), Queen of Scotland, has returned from France to rule her native land following the death of her husband. The young queen quickly discovers that there is much division amongst the land, as many in Scotland have embraced the Protestant faith of England, while Mary and others remain devoutly Catholic. Mary wishes to unite England and Scotland, but news of her arrival in Scotland swiftly arrives to her older cousin, and Queen of England, Elizabeth I (played by an unrecognizable Margot Robbie), who instinctively fears the young queen may stake a claim to usurp her throne.
Elizabeth is cautious of her cousin’s perceived transgressions and devises a plan to have the recently widowed Mary, wed one of her subjects in an attempt to control her cousin and maintain her reign. Despite being young and idealistic, Mary is determined to be more than a figurehead monarch and must contend with her cousin’s schemes as well as the growing discontent from her half-brother (James McArdle) and her potential suitors (Joe Alwyn, Jack Lowden). Over time we come to realize that the two monarchs have far more in common than was first thought, as the two maintain a fascination with one other despite becoming increasingly at odds.
Mary Queen of Scots cleverly subverts expectations as it is revealed that the two feuding cousins are not each other’s true enemy, but rather are each different types of victims of a patriarchal society. The film is most in its element as we witness each queen’s approach to navigating the same problem of being undermined by a masculine society. Mary is an idealistic force that remains unwavering in her commitment to be a ruling queen, whereas Elizabeth serves as a counterpoint in her pragmatism and willingness to adapt. The theme is further driven home as we witness Elizabeth becoming increasingly less content in her circumstances, with her sickly appearance serving as an apt metaphor for the degree of toxic masculinity she condones in her efforts to remain the Queen of England.
The films falters in its execution, however, as in its attempts to obfuscate the film’s true conflict Mary Queen of Scots is unfocused in its plotting. When it is eventually revealed that there is an uprising of discontent brewing amongst Mary’s royal court it feels out of left field as the film didn’t devote much time to developing this growing mutiny. It feels almost as though the screenwriter realized that there was little development regarding this dimension and overcompensates in the film’s finale with some heavy-handed conceptualizations of the “evil patriarchy.” Lines such as “I am more man now than woman” are cringe-inducing and are the equivalent of hitting a nail with a jack hammer.
What’s more, the screenplay takes various creative liberties as it concerns the sexual orientation of certain characters as well as the level of promiscuity possessed by devoutly religious figures. In general I am rather accepting of biopics bending the truth so as to help shape the overarching themes the creator wishes to convey, but the film feels far too modern at times. The anachronisms served to distract rather than enhance the film’s message about combatting misogyny and brought to mind the short-lived guilty pleasure CW show Reign in which the Queen of Scots was relegated as a character on Gossip Girl instead of an authentic historical figure.
Despite the screenplay being plagued with issues of plotting and historical accuracy, I still found Mary Queen of Scots largely entertaining with its themes being brought to life by the central actresses. Saorise Ronan does great work as the noble and accepting Queen of Scots, particularly shining in the latter half of the film where she increasingly clings to the notion that her righteousness and martyrdom will ultimately prevail.
Margot Robbie turns in yet another award-worthy performance, this time as The Virgin Queen Elizabeth. The character is fascinating, and I often found that I was most interested in learning more about her grief relating to her body betraying her and how she maintained such a strong façade in the face of adversity. It’s a shame that the screen time wasn’t split more evenly, as the relationship between the queens was the most compelling aspect.
With Queen Elizabeth missing for a sizeable chunk of the film, and the characters only sharing one scene together, Mary Queen of Scots is ultimately somewhat of a missed opportunity to provide a more multi-dimensional take on the relationship between the royal cousins and the propensity for a male-dominated society to undermine the bonds between women. However, the performances from the cast, particularly the transformative work from Robbie, justifies the price of admission alone, making for an enticing albeit tedious interpretation of 16th century English royalty.
