Spencer [2021]
“You know at school, you do tenses? There's the past, the present, future…Well here, there is only one tense. There is no future. The past and the present are the same thing.”
From director Pablo Larraín of the Oscar nominated Jackie, writer Steven Knight of the incredibly personal Locke, and cinematographer Claire Mathon of the astonishingly beautiful Portrait of a Lady on Fire comes what is going to be an incredibly strong contender for my favorite biopic of all time. Spencer is intimate, it is weird, it is brave, and it is absolutely beautiful to behold. While Spencer’s polarized ratings make it clear this won’t be a film for everyone, it was one for me… and it has been a very long time since I’ve fallen so in love with an on-screen character.
Spencer follows Diana, Princess of Wales [more commonly known as Princess Diana] over the three day Christmas block as she endures a family that can’t stand her, a people that want to treat her like a specimen, and a staff caught between duty and empathy. Diana’s world is one in which she doesn’t belong, for she is too free, too wonderful, and too different for their traditions, and pageants, and perfidious personas to understand. As these conflicts become heavier and heavier and her family suffocates her more and more with their stares and whispers, what is this effervescent soul to do? Her children seem to understand her, to love her, to see her but… in this world of “tradition”, what is to become of them as well?
Spencer is a strange movie to try and summarize because it doesn’t have a “plot”, so to speak. Instead of being a more typical drama [or even a typical biopic for that matter], Larraín expertly eschews any semblance of standard narrative structure and opts for a more artistic approach to the examination of the tortured psyche inside the Princess of Wales. Now, going into this film [and still today] I didn’t know anything about Diana except for her name and that she died in a car accident. I have a vague sense that there are people who don’t quite believe it was an “accident”, and a somewhat less vague sense that she was something of an icon to some and an iconoclast to others. But, that’s all that I know about the character Spencer is supposed to embody, and I’m not sure if my experience was better or worse for it. What my experience was, however, was that of a never-better Kristen Stewart embodying the soul of woman trapped somewhere she didn’t belong, and didn’t choose to be. Someone who wanted to be free, to be whole, and to be understood. Someone who wanted to be seen, not looked at.
“Hold on. Fight them. Be beautiful. You are your own weapon.”
This film is truly spectacular to observe; with masterful cinematography from the above mentioned Claire Mathon that both captures the high-class aristocracy in all its decadence, but also manages to twist and distort that ebullience in subtle and uncomfortable ways. This brilliant visual exhibition is enhanced by a score that is so strange it’s difficult to call it “music” as discordant jazz tunes play halfheartedly in the background, accompanied by deep and sonorous strings; giving the entire film the air of a horror rather than a drama. There’s a true genius in this depiction of Diana’s world, because it shows us the way it looks, but makes us feel something else entirely… and not something good. The best way I’ve come around to describing it is that it feels like a 2-hour episode of Twin Peaks directed by Darren Aronofsky. Everything is just kind of… strange.
Spencer is a film that asks you to empathize with someone who exists so far out of the life you [probably] live, that, on the outside, she’s entirely unrelatable. However, similar to 2017’s Thoroughbreds, if you take the time to sit with her, to hear her, and to believe her tragedy, you’ll find that she isn’t that different after all… and maybe that’s the worst part about it. Spencer very much is a tragedy, and one that is oft criticized for being a bit “one note”. While a fair observation, I do not think this is a “mistake” or an “error” to be corrected. This is not a film that is supposed to make you feel good, it is one that is supposed to take you inside the mind of someone struggling to hold it together when everything around her wants to tear her apart. Everything, that is, except for her two children who seem to love her and struggle in their own ways with the world they’ve been thrust into as well. They are her solace, and they are the best of her.
Like I mentioned, I know nothing of Princess Diana the real person. But I do know that if Stewart’s performance of this out of place and lost woman is to be believed, she was far more beautiful, far more caring, and far more deserving of love than she was given. I also know that if Pablo Larraín’s depiction of this struggling, downtrodden princess is to be believed, losing her to an early tragedy is something we are all worse off for, as she was one of the more genuine, majestic, and important spirits to walk among us.
“I'm a magnet for madness. Other people's madness.”
