Mary Queen of Scots received a backlash and hate mail on its USA release, having been positively reviewed following its first showings. Much of this backlash came from three groups.
First, there are the misogynists who hated the female centrality of Captain Marvel and trolled their hate, as they did, too, on that poorly moderated site, Rotten Tomatoes, with Mary Queen of Scots. Objectionable were scenes of female sexuality and menstruation. The marketer's over-emphasis on depicting things female triggered a 'Me Too' type of Social Media movement that lay largely behind the backlash. It may be true that marketing shot this film in the foot. They were heavy-handed - and did we say Mary Queen of Scots understands gay people?
Second, we have the positivists who are too closed to enjoy purposeful re-imaginings of historical personages, their words and actions - call these folk 'history pedants' if you must. An imagined and theatrical meeting of the minds of Mary and Elizabeth was just unacceptable, even though 'sliding door moments' and 'what if?' moments have long an element of critical speculation to the narrative. We don't own history. History as we know it is recorded by humans - historians; and Tudor novelists tread creatively on this ground, filling in the disputed and unknowable 'facts' with creative speculation. Blasphemous to this group was Mary's Scottish accent, a conscious, audience-centred decision, Saoirse Ronan said in interviews. We also hear Mary, in more intimate moments, speaking French. Rourke and crew embody awareness of these decisions within the film. Historical ignorance it is not; but we could call it creative license.
Third, there are the 'anti-theatrical pedants' who couldn't accept imagining people of colour and diversity in the courts of Mary and Elizabeth. To paraphrase what Josie Rourke, the film's director, often said in interviews, the theatre has challenged viewers with black Isabellas (Measure for Measure) for decades. Yet Asian actor Gemma Chen received brickbats for her Bess Hardwick. And more than ten novels re-imagining Bess Hardwick have been written, including The Queenmaker by Maureen Peters. History, and its personages, are not objectivist statues set in alabaster; they are there or the reimagining, and understanding re-imagining requires a quality of critical thought. Rourke's gamble lay in the hope that audiences has critical thought; but increasingly, they do not, preferring such easy (and just as blasphemous to fact) re-imaginings as Bohemian Rhapsody.
Mary, Queen of Scots was grand on the cinema screen, particularly the sweeping exteriors and shots of the rough terrains of Scotland and the intimate thinking close-ups, more of Saoirse Ronan than Margot Robbie. There is real life in those eyes. It deserves new eyes, new audiences, in its home cinema incarnations. The film's device of switching between courts to build intrigue is a mainstay of television; yet it was one of the critics' main objects of scorn. The script, neither Game of Thrones nor The House of Cards as populists may have expected, is a fair adaptation of its source, John Guy's speculative biography, Queen of Scots: The True Life of Mary Stuart. It is true that there is a lack of momentum in the intercut scenes and a lack of clarity in the development of minor or secondary - and male - characters. The work of Saoirse Ronan and Margot Robbie is amazing in different ways, though Ronan has the upper hand with her uncanny knack at accents and her way with steely glares, and Robbie has the disadvantage of an Australian accent which raises its head in occasional syllables. There is some joy in the supporting players, too. The scenes of the two female actors leads us to wonder what sparks will fly between Ronan and Kate Winslet in the forthcoming Ammonite, a film where the stars are guaranteed to have more than one scene together (and which is already taking flack for re-imagining 'history', or rather 'herstory').
Embrace Mary Queen of Scots with an open mind, fully prepared for the work of a theatre director adapting her technique and tropes to film, and ready to enjoy the work of two of today's finest stars.
First, there are the misogynists who hated the female centrality of Captain Marvel and trolled their hate, as they did, too, on that poorly moderated site, Rotten Tomatoes, with Mary Queen of Scots. Objectionable were scenes of female sexuality and menstruation. The marketer's over-emphasis on depicting things female triggered a 'Me Too' type of Social Media movement that lay largely behind the backlash. It may be true that marketing shot this film in the foot. They were heavy-handed - and did we say Mary Queen of Scots understands gay people?
Second, we have the positivists who are too closed to enjoy purposeful re-imaginings of historical personages, their words and actions - call these folk 'history pedants' if you must. An imagined and theatrical meeting of the minds of Mary and Elizabeth was just unacceptable, even though 'sliding door moments' and 'what if?' moments have long an element of critical speculation to the narrative. We don't own history. History as we know it is recorded by humans - historians; and Tudor novelists tread creatively on this ground, filling in the disputed and unknowable 'facts' with creative speculation. Blasphemous to this group was Mary's Scottish accent, a conscious, audience-centred decision, Saoirse Ronan said in interviews. We also hear Mary, in more intimate moments, speaking French. Rourke and crew embody awareness of these decisions within the film. Historical ignorance it is not; but we could call it creative license.
Third, there are the 'anti-theatrical pedants' who couldn't accept imagining people of colour and diversity in the courts of Mary and Elizabeth. To paraphrase what Josie Rourke, the film's director, often said in interviews, the theatre has challenged viewers with black Isabellas (Measure for Measure) for decades. Yet Asian actor Gemma Chen received brickbats for her Bess Hardwick. And more than ten novels re-imagining Bess Hardwick have been written, including The Queenmaker by Maureen Peters. History, and its personages, are not objectivist statues set in alabaster; they are there or the reimagining, and understanding re-imagining requires a quality of critical thought. Rourke's gamble lay in the hope that audiences has critical thought; but increasingly, they do not, preferring such easy (and just as blasphemous to fact) re-imaginings as Bohemian Rhapsody.
Mary, Queen of Scots was grand on the cinema screen, particularly the sweeping exteriors and shots of the rough terrains of Scotland and the intimate thinking close-ups, more of Saoirse Ronan than Margot Robbie. There is real life in those eyes. It deserves new eyes, new audiences, in its home cinema incarnations. The film's device of switching between courts to build intrigue is a mainstay of television; yet it was one of the critics' main objects of scorn. The script, neither Game of Thrones nor The House of Cards as populists may have expected, is a fair adaptation of its source, John Guy's speculative biography, Queen of Scots: The True Life of Mary Stuart. It is true that there is a lack of momentum in the intercut scenes and a lack of clarity in the development of minor or secondary - and male - characters. The work of Saoirse Ronan and Margot Robbie is amazing in different ways, though Ronan has the upper hand with her uncanny knack at accents and her way with steely glares, and Robbie has the disadvantage of an Australian accent which raises its head in occasional syllables. There is some joy in the supporting players, too. The scenes of the two female actors leads us to wonder what sparks will fly between Ronan and Kate Winslet in the forthcoming Ammonite, a film where the stars are guaranteed to have more than one scene together (and which is already taking flack for re-imagining 'history', or rather 'herstory').
Embrace Mary Queen of Scots with an open mind, fully prepared for the work of a theatre director adapting her technique and tropes to film, and ready to enjoy the work of two of today's finest stars.