Imprisonment in Office: Being Queen in Elizabeth By Matthew Peters

Long has humanity been captivated by royalty; the power, the prestige, and the politics. For centuries monarchs were revered and held as the sovereign appointees of God to rule and hold power over the fates of men and state. In today's world of equality and democratic representation, the fascination with royalty stems forth from academic and entertaining pursuits that seek to expose, study, and portray the truths of the office of an absolute ruler.

Elizabeth (Shekhar Kapur, 1998) combines both fields and puts forth a historically accurate and entertaining expository of the early reign of the Virgin Queen. Yet, the film is more. The narrative is captivating and, within the complex workings of the story, a more interesting tale is told. The film shows that not only are monarchs beset on all sides by assassination and usurpation, but also that they are the victims of a greater evil; they are prisoners to the subtle and invisible shackles of their office that strip them of their freedom and confine them within the affairs of the state. Indeed, Sir William (Richard Attenbourough) captured this concept in one sentence when he said, "Her majesty's body and person are no longer her own property; they belong to the state."

A major portion of the narrative of the film revolves around various plots to take the throne from or kill the newly anointed queen Elizabeth (Cate Blanchett). Sir William even says that Elizabeth's throne is not secure. Through the omniscient style of narration the audience becomes aware of these plots. Some of them are made known to us explicitly as they are made known to the Queen herself, as when Sir William tells her of the inevitable attack from France and Mary of Scots. These are built directly into the narrative and are exposed to us by a certain character explicitly talking about them. Other, subtler plots, remain hidden from the Queen, and the audience gains knowledge of them through adept camerawork and editing, by becoming involved in the secret plots themselves as they are being hatched by some of the more seedy characters in the film. This omniscience given to the audience is crucial so that we can understand more about the story, and the danger facing the Queen than any one character alone. Because of this omniscience, however, we are almost never allowed to delve into any characters' inner psyche, the narration remains objective throughout the entire film, except for two points which will be discussed later.

Numerous nighttime meetings and secret whisperings are all delicately shot, which heightens the audience's sense of secrecy. The camera is often placed right under the head of one character as he whispers to another. This feeling that the camera is "nuzzled" into the conversation makes the viewer aware that they are privy to something that no others are; that what they are hearing was not meant to be heard. This imbues the conversation with a sense of danger and suspense that would not be gained if it were shot with a medium range or even a more conventional medium close up shot.

In addition the camerawork in these scenes of plotting against the Queen, lighting plays a large factor in creating an atmosphere of danger. Note that all scenes where plans to kill or usurp the Queen take place at night and the light in the scene is very often low-key light from candles or some other diegetic source. Because of both the camerawork and the lighting, grouped with superb acting, the audience actually feels a sense of danger and suspense.

Because of the omniscience of the narration we become aware of plots that others are not and we know of danger to the queen's life that no others do. This begins to give the audience the sense that Elizabeth's life is under a microscope and that we can see whatever we want, as if she is a prisoner in our keeping. In a sense, the audience gets a small taste of the constant worry that the Queen herself must have felt.

Some of the plots to overthrow the Queen do come to fruition later in the film. The most noticeable example is the scene where Elizabeth sees the Roman assassin/priest walking towards her. This scene brilliantly conveys the danger that the queen faces. The shots of the priest walking are in slow motion which heightens the sense of suspense and urgency in the audience. And his black robes combined with the cold soft lighting truly highlight his danger and his ill interest for the queen.

Let us move on now from the dangers that faced Elizabeth from the outside, and turn instead to the intrinsic danger of her office: losing her freedom and becoming a prisoner inside her position. This theme plays throughout the film and is possibly the most important theme in the film. It is introduced in the beginning of the film and lasts until the very last scene, rendered in almost all aspects including explicit narrative, camerawork, lighting, editing, and mise-en-scene, and depicts one of the more profound messages of the film: that being a monarch is not all glamour, it is like a prison-and the only escape is death.

Quite early the film establishes the juxtaposition of life as queen and life as another royal (a princess). The audience is introduced to Queen Mary (Kathy Burke) in her bedchambers, a horrific dungeon-like room. The very walls and architecture of the room recall a gothic style prison. In this scene all of the colors are dark and drab, not the flamboyant reds and blues of Disney royalty. The low-key soft lighting intensifies the darkness of the colors of the upholstery and costumes. There are only two light sources in the room, the candles on the wall sconces and the cold blue light coming through the small windows, both of which are diegetic. There appears to be no attempt by the filmmakers to add light to the scene in order to make the room brighter or make it easier to see characters' faces. The room is left cold and dark, like a dungeon, which illustrates life as a Queen well. She is a prisoner to the state and to her duties and her bedchamber in the film is a physical representation of that.

Immediately after that scene, by means of a direct cut, the audience is taken to the British countryside where they see Elizabeth and her friends dancing in an open field under the bright sun. This immediate cut (not a fade or dissolve) forces the audience to mentally contrast the situation of Mary who is Queen, to Elizabeth who, as yet, is not. Compared to the bedchambers of the Queen any situation would seem pleasant and delightful, but the filmmakers go to the trouble to place Elizabeth outside in a field on a beautiful day to ensure that the comparison is complete. Note also that the filmmakers placed Elizabeth in an open field. The open field, untouched and untilled by man, is the most common natural representation for the Greek goddess Artemis, the unspoiled virgin. Obviously in this early scene an attempt is being made to characterize Elizabeth who would become the virgin queen. This juxtaposition is repeated many more times as Queen Mary is dying. In those scenes the audience sees her bedchambers even darker than before again quickly compared to the countryside where Elizabeth lives. This comparison between what life is like before one becomes a queen and what life is like after one becomes a queen sets up the unfolding of the theme of royal imprisonment that follows.

The camerawork in the film is consistently the most wonderfully used means by which the filmmakers convey the feeling of being trapped in the office of Queen. In numerous shots throughout the film the camera looks straight down on top of the characters. This unconventional camera angle illustrates how cramped the life of the Queen is. In effect it subconsciously tells the audience that there simply wasn't enough room to put the camera level with the characters, so it must look down from above. It intensifies the Queen's cluttered confinement, with no open areas and no room to move, much like a prison cell. Also, very often the camera is placed outside of a room looking in; whether it be through a small window, through the screen of a confessional, or through a sheer curtain. This, just as looking down from above, conveys a sense of being cramped, as if there were not enough space in the room for the camera.

The style of camerawork also enforces the idea that in becoming Queen you are imprisoned. Initially during Elizabeth's imprisonment in the Tower of London (a literal prison), the camera looks in onto her through small prison windows or bars in the door. This allows the audience to explicitly see Elizabeth on the inside of something outside of which they and the rest of the characters in the film are. The idea that monarchs are prisoners to the subtle and invisible shackles of their office that strip them of their freedom, is made explicitly real at the end of the scene of Elizabeth's boat ride into the Tower of London. There we see the wrought-iron gates of the canal close slowly onto the camera, and a slow rack focus where Elizabeth becomes blurry and the gates come into focus. Like, the other examples above, this one serves not only to show the metaphor of the office of the Queen, but also to show Elizabeth's transformation into that office.

As with camerawork, the lighting consistently shows Elizabeth's becoming a prisoner of the position of Queen. As said above, in the beginning the audience sees Elizabeth in rich natural sunlight a symbol of freedom, but as the film progresses she increasingly appears in dark dungeon like rooms that recall the bedchambers of Mary. In fact, in one scene the audience sees Elizabeth in those same bedchambers on a stormy night, and for the first time the audience sees her as they saw Mary.

Lighting is also used well in the scene where Elizabeth is crying due to the loss of the battle with Mary de Guise (Fanny Ardant) and she seeks solitude in an old room. Here, the audience can see plainly the reoccurring motif of soft low-key lighting. That scene is dark and has few light sources just as the bedchamber scene of Mary. This is the first instance where we see Elizabeth, now Queen, in a dungeon-like room, and where consciously or subconsciously, it has some effect on the audience.

Though merely one example, it is plain that the frequency of such lighting and such sets becomes greater as Elizabeth gets deeper and deeper into her office. It also becomes apparent, as the film progresses, that an increasing number of scenes take place at night when no natural light-only the soft glow of the candles-lights the faces of the actors.

Another component of the mise-en-scene that was used effectively was the continual whitening of Elizabeth as the movie progressed. At the beginning of the film she had some color in her cheeks and looked healthy, but as the film went on she became increasingly pale, until, at the end, she covers herself with white cream. This use of continually whitening make up was subtle and well done because it, like everything else mentioned, helps to subconsciously relate Elizabeth to a prisoner in the minds of the audience; like a prisoner who becomes more and more sickly and pale with time away from the sun in a dank cell, so too does Elizabeth in the prison of being Queen.

Editing is not a component of the film that strikes a viewer in the same way that the lighting or camerawork does. Yet, therein lies the beauty. In a film such as this, which strives for believability and historical editing, "fancy" editing tricks hardly serve a purpose. With two exceptions, the editing in the film was straightforward, simple, and elegant; exactly what it needed to be.

The first exception where editing becomes explicitly apparent is in the scene where Elizabeth practices her speech for the nobles. Here, jump cuts intensify Elizabeth's nervousness and sense of fractured self. She must deliver a speech that impresses and earns the respect of the nobles or else she and her throne would be deeper in danger. This break in the seamless continuity of the editing parallels one of only two breaks in the objectivity of the narration. At Elizabeth's most vulnerable moment the narration becomes subjective and the audience becomes privy to her inner mind. She knows that her throne is in danger, a sentiment conveyed to the audience through the break in temporal continuity in the editing. These jump cuts also continue the theme that Elizabeth is a prisoner in her office, by driving home the idea that the audience is looking in on her (as if in a cell) as she struggles to remain Queen.

The second instance of noteworthy editing appears at the end of the film and helps to "wrap up" the theme of imprisonment. When Elizabeth is cutting her hair she has two flashbacks to her life before she became Queen, when she was free and dancing in the wheat fields under the sun. Here, for the second time, the narration becomes subjective and the audience is privy to Elizabeth's memories of and longings for a simpler time when she was free to do as she wished, not imprisoned in the cold cell of monarchy. This use of flashbacks helps the audience to accept the imprisonment that Elizabeth has undergone, and to empathize with her.

Elizabeth took a risk. It sought not only to tell the story of the Virgin Queen of England with historical accuracy and entertaining value, but also to make comments of the nature of royalty itself, throughout history and throughout the cultures of the world. Today, although the nature of royalty has much changed, the shackles in which Elizabeth was imprisoned are much the same as those that our modern royals wear. Was it not because the fact that Princess Diana's "body and person [were] no longer her own property" that caused her death? And do not the duties of the royal family of England constantly deprive them of privacy and freedom to do what they wish? Although different in nature, the constant badgering of journalists and fans, and the relentless schedule of state engagements and proper functions which must be attended are no less a prison than the duties of Elizabeth in her time. It seems that the filmmakers succeeded in making a commentary on the nature of royalty that stands as true today as it did five hundred years ago.

                                                                 © FILM JOURNAL 2002