But despite that originality, I've always found his films incredibly forced and inhumanly candid in their humor, which gave them this very cold and distant touch, especially with last year's The Killing of a Sacred Deer that completely put me off. The Favourite, on the other hand, proves an interesting deviation, as he isn't writing his own script this time, and thus has the benefit of fresh blood to fuel his approach. And such is an approach that absolutely pays off for The Favourite, that while easier to digest is still unmistakably a Lanthimos joint, one teeming with rich dry humor and wickedly entertaining venom.
The Favourite follows an exaggerated representation of Queen Anne, played by Olivia Colman, and her exploits surrounding Great Britain's ongoing war with France. As the war rages on, the opportunistic hands of her subjects and the stewards around her prey upon her, her mentality continually dwindling from still ongoing grief, and stricken with gout that eats away at her. At her constant side is Duchess Sarah of Marlborough, played by Rachel Weisz, who sees to executing and negotiating new orders on behalf of the queen, and sometimes to her contradiction, who stands above all others as the favorite servant of her majesty.
All seems to be going well, which is when the younger cousin of Sarah, Abigail Hill, played by Emma Stone, arrives to the castle initially working as a scullery maid. But by her own opportunistic hand, and the casual emergence of her own dark side, Abigail eventually wins favor of Queen Anne, becoming one of her own personal servants. Such an occupation brings out a fiery competition between Abigail and Sarah, as the two begin to undermine and sabotage one another, taking advantage of the queen in the meantime, for rewards that may not even be worth it in the end.
It feels so wrong to be describing The Favourite as a delight, and yet it is such a darkly twisted good time. Handing scripting duties to the duo of Deborah Davis and Tony McNamara, Lanthimos may have finally found a good film to tone down his usually robotic touch, while still retaining that high concept intellectualism and savage dark humor. While the morality he explores may be of a sadistic and vicious nature, it still feels tangibly human, a significant turnaround from my usual perception of him. And most of that I find myself owing to the incredible strength of the three main actresses, and with each of them perfectly cast and written in every regard, picking a favourite among them is almost futile.
Starting with the most prestigious of them all, Olivia Colman stands out with the most tragically hysterical turn. From her introduction to the closing scenes, what we see of the ailing Queen paints the portrait of a woman clearly teetering on the edge. She's stricken with gout that causes her pain, she has suffered the loss of 17 children whose void she fills with rabbits, and in her grief she's taken solace in the most outlandish of activities (one serving as a nice reference to one of Yorgos' prior films), while taking her wildly spontaneous frustrations out on her nearest company. She is clearly not a well-woman, having devolved into a mad and vacant ruler, and her despair turning her into a miserable human being.
In that misery, it's not become uncommon for those closest to her to take advantage of her. In her own courts, she finds herself at the center of heated land and war tax debates, mainly revolving around the back-handed efforts of Earl and Parliament landowner Robert Harley, played by a scathing Nicholas Hoult. In many ways, the opportunistic reach of wealthy British aristocracy in the early 18th century, and those of our modern governmental overrule and outreach, aren't so distant from each other. Predator fiercely stalks and exploits the weaknesses of its prey, at the expense of and by means of undercutting the dire needs of those in pain and suffering, including the woman on the country's highest seat. As a result, there's an underplayed, but also potent battle of the sexes angle to the film, as women prove themselves capable of rising above and overpowering their male opposites in might, but also as easily fall victim to the folly of their pettiness.
And that's before factoring in the weighty tug of war of wits and poison, on one end being Emma Stone's Abigail. One is not prepared for what awaits behind the initially charming demeanor of the meek peasant woman turned confidant, and casting Stone is honestly ingenious, given what a charismatic and lovable actress she usually is onscreen. But with this film, that image gets turned right on its head, as what first presents itself as a charismatic and easily approachable innocent, eventually reveal the true shades of darkness and self-serving exploit under the surface. Hailing from a disgraced background of a debt-ridden father, Abigail is not the type of woman to let her hard work go to waste, desperately clinging to her position with the death grip of a viper, and while finding sympathy for her at her earliest punishments, it's a credit to how seamless Stone plays the transition that the character's fiendish scheming makes our very blood boil.
But if I had to assign one true stand out, not only do I feel Rachel Weisz - here as Lady Sarah of Marlborough - gives the performance of the film, but quite possibly of the year. Compared to Abigail's fiendishly cloying ability to play to Anne's insecurities, Sarah takes a complete 180 in approach. She tells Anne that love is based on honesty rather than the things one desires to hear, openly scrutinizing the Queen's appearance and actions to an utmost tee, all the while indulging in her distinct idiosyncrasies to earn favor. Weisz plays the character with such a fierce determination and rioutously entertaining cattiness, clearly comfortable with her current personal standings with Anne, so unwilling to relinquish it and ready to do whatever need be done to retain it. In fact, many of the most enjoyable moments of the film revolve around the petty sparring and venom-spewing between her and Stone, as Colman's Queen seems to take delight in the two fighting for her attention and partnership, with Weisz managing to sell incredible toxicity and heartbreak.
And believe me, that's only a chunk of what makes The Favourite such a beautiful, but ultimately sinister and unsettling film. With the 18th century heirarchies, I think Lanthimos has found the perfect surrogate for his offbeat, savage comedic bite. The satire of the elegant, but morally depraved world, where for some reason it's good fun to throw fruits at naked men in wigs as sports, lends itself perfectly to that macabre sense of humor. 'Tis a vile world of backstabbing and underhanded dealings, finding humor in the most unexpected places as it revels in the absurdity of its central conflict, and yet such is an absurdity that strangely doesn't feel out of the realm of possibility.
Behind the film's lavish production design, and the most extravagant of Sandy Powell costumes, there's a wicked heart to the film. Even within its historical setting, by placing itself firmly in a satirical parody it negates such discrepancies, where such beauty and grandiosity acts as a mere facade to the vile souls of those inhabiting them. Relying not only on venomous jabs, but also on physical comedy (including one extended bewildering dance sequence), the film relishes in the intentional anachronisms of its setting, painting itself akin to Black Mirror as told by Black Adder. But such laughs aren't always in good spirit, but also of pure discomfort, hatefulness, and blistering pain, as the ire of those at the center of such quarrels slowly build, only compounding the inevitable misery that's owed their way. Nowhere can such painful dark humor be best expressed than the film's final stretches, as Lanthimos lays his final cruel stroke like a humiliating knife twisting in the back.
Yes, it may be an uneasy film, but strangely also Lanthimos' most accessible film yet, as well as his best film to date. That said, not every stomach can be strong enough to digest it, but not only is it a richly rewarding film full of eye-catching subtleties and delights, it also stands as easily one of the year's best films, and an oddly satisfying delight. In fact, so good is it, I'm making plans to rewatch it even as I type. I'm genuinely surprised by how well I took to this movie, and how often it made me laugh, even when it physically made me ill to do so. 'Tis a real, savage jape.
***** / *****
No comments:
Post a Comment