As far as Academy Award recognition is concerned, 'Elizabeth' was unfortunately released in the same year (1998) as the much slicker, more crowd-pleasing 'Shakespeare in Love,' a fine comic film but as much over-praised as 'Elizabeth' was overlooked. It certainly borders on the absurd, if not the criminal, that Gwyneth Paltrow's simpering, one-note performance as Viola was handed the Best Actress Award over Cate Blanchett's truly magnificent performance in the title role of 'Elizabeth,' a film whose tracing of Elizabeth's transformation from teenage frolicker to commanding 'Virgin Queen' presented an enormous challenge of acting range that Blanchett met with aplomb.
Curiously, 'Shakespeare in Love' and 'Elizabeth' not only share the presence of Elizabeth I as an historical character, albeit at opposite ends of her nearly 50 year reign, but also two prominent cast members: Joseph Fiennes and Geoffrey Rush. Although Fiennes' role as the Earl of Leicester, Elizabeth's lover prior to her Virgin Queen persona days, is smaller (and far less winning) than his lead role in 'Shakespeare in Love,' he again cuts a convincing figure in 16th century costume. On the other hand, Geoffrey Rush's performance as Sir Francis Walsingham, Elizabeth's utterly ruthless yet completely loyal bodyguard and Machiavellian tutor, is endlessly and hypnotically fascinating – a performance that steals movies in movies whose leads are less arresting than Ms. Blanchett.
Yet, in an ironic reversal of Hollywood's usual denigration of comedy in favor of 'serious' drama, it was Rush's much smaller comic performance in 'Shakespeare' that secured him the 1998 Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor. Ordinarily, I'd applaud such recognition of comic art and talent, but in this instance it represents another miscarriage of justice. Rush's tone and bearing as he delivers line after line of blood-chilling dialog make Walsingham a character I expect never to forget. 'You were Norfolk,' he responds to the protests of the insufferably arrogant Duke of Norfolk, Elizabeth's chief nemesis, as he leads him away to the Tower, 'the dead have no titles.'
Of course, Elizabeth gets off many a great line of her own, as in her unforgettable final rejection of Leicester: 'I am not your Elizabeth. I am no man's Elizabeth. I shall have one mistress here. And no master!' A little later she gives license to Walsingham to proceed with the political cleansing of the realm with a laconic transcendence of her 'womanly' emotions: 'let it all be done.' Still another memorable line marks the final stage of her political education and her departure from the wishy-washy diplomacy represented by Lord Burleigh (her former chief minister, finely played by Sir Richard Attenborough in his final film role): 'Observe, Lord Burleigh, I am married to England.'
Elizabeth ultimately forges a political philosophy that combines elements of Walsingham's cynical wariness with an ideal of self-abnegating service to England ('my people'). She envisions a strong, secular England capable of rising above the internecine religious strife initiated by her father's departure from the Roman Catholic Church and depicted in graphic horror in the film's opening sequence. In so doing she succeeds in mapping out England's course toward a stable, advanced society whose history would include a lengthy period of world domination. This film does full justice to the dilemmas of church-state conflict, to the complex character of the queen herself, and to the rich historical milieu that produced her. It is one of the finest historical dramas to have appeared in decades.
Curiously, 'Shakespeare in Love' and 'Elizabeth' not only share the presence of Elizabeth I as an historical character, albeit at opposite ends of her nearly 50 year reign, but also two prominent cast members: Joseph Fiennes and Geoffrey Rush. Although Fiennes' role as the Earl of Leicester, Elizabeth's lover prior to her Virgin Queen persona days, is smaller (and far less winning) than his lead role in 'Shakespeare in Love,' he again cuts a convincing figure in 16th century costume. On the other hand, Geoffrey Rush's performance as Sir Francis Walsingham, Elizabeth's utterly ruthless yet completely loyal bodyguard and Machiavellian tutor, is endlessly and hypnotically fascinating – a performance that steals movies in movies whose leads are less arresting than Ms. Blanchett.
Yet, in an ironic reversal of Hollywood's usual denigration of comedy in favor of 'serious' drama, it was Rush's much smaller comic performance in 'Shakespeare' that secured him the 1998 Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor. Ordinarily, I'd applaud such recognition of comic art and talent, but in this instance it represents another miscarriage of justice. Rush's tone and bearing as he delivers line after line of blood-chilling dialog make Walsingham a character I expect never to forget. 'You were Norfolk,' he responds to the protests of the insufferably arrogant Duke of Norfolk, Elizabeth's chief nemesis, as he leads him away to the Tower, 'the dead have no titles.'
Of course, Elizabeth gets off many a great line of her own, as in her unforgettable final rejection of Leicester: 'I am not your Elizabeth. I am no man's Elizabeth. I shall have one mistress here. And no master!' A little later she gives license to Walsingham to proceed with the political cleansing of the realm with a laconic transcendence of her 'womanly' emotions: 'let it all be done.' Still another memorable line marks the final stage of her political education and her departure from the wishy-washy diplomacy represented by Lord Burleigh (her former chief minister, finely played by Sir Richard Attenborough in his final film role): 'Observe, Lord Burleigh, I am married to England.'
Elizabeth ultimately forges a political philosophy that combines elements of Walsingham's cynical wariness with an ideal of self-abnegating service to England ('my people'). She envisions a strong, secular England capable of rising above the internecine religious strife initiated by her father's departure from the Roman Catholic Church and depicted in graphic horror in the film's opening sequence. In so doing she succeeds in mapping out England's course toward a stable, advanced society whose history would include a lengthy period of world domination. This film does full justice to the dilemmas of church-state conflict, to the complex character of the queen herself, and to the rich historical milieu that produced her. It is one of the finest historical dramas to have appeared in decades.