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The Queen Our rating: Your rating: 1 2 3 4 Your Comments: see all MPAA rating: PG-13 (for brief strong language) Genre: Biography, Drama Theater release: October 06, 2006 by Miramax Directed by: Stephen Frears Runtime: 1 hour 43 minutes Cast: Helen Mirren (HM The Queen Elizabeth II), Michael Sheen (Prime Minister Tony Blair), James Cromwell (Prince Philip), Sylvia Syms (HM The Queen Mother), Alex Jennings (Prince Charles), Helen McCronry (Cherie Blair), Roger Allam (Sir Robin Janvrin) Related: Talk About It/Family Corner

In the opening scene of The Queen, Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II (Helen Mirren) is sitting for a portrait while watching television coverage of the 1997 election for a new British Prime Minister. The painstakingly hand-painted image and the fleeting televised ones set the scene well for this cinematic study in contrasts.

When newly elected Tony Blair (Michael Sheen) and his wife (Helen McCronry) meet the Queen for the first time a few scenes later, the dichotomy continues. As the Blairs are escorted to the appropriate room, a palace official gives them a crash course in proper in-the-presence-of-the-Queen etiquette—including when to bow, how to pronounce ma'am (as in rhymes with "ham"), and the fact that you're never supposed to show your back to the Queen. To see Mrs. Blair butchering the royal curtsey and the pair of them dutifully shuffling backwards out of the room is utterly charming. And their eye-rolling as they exit the palace hints at the growing chasm between the royal regalia and the people's reality—even that of a fellow national leader.

Helen Mirren is priceless as Queen Elizabeth II

The next scene, several months later, is the crash that takes Princes Diana's life. This is the first of several sensitive moments throughout the film handled with the trademark English subtlety and decorum. We see a brief reenactment of Di and Dodi leaving a Paris hotel hounded by the paparazzi, peppered with real-life footage of Diana's life—from the early girlish years to the final international-icon era. Then just a black screen and silence. And a ringing phone, waking the royals—the first of many interruptions this event will bring into their lives.

The way Diana's death should be commemorated is the source of much disagreement. In the first of many phone conversations on the matter with Blair, the Queen says the funeral should be a private matter. The countless number of flowers, candles, cards, and stuffed animals placed outside Kensington Palace, Diana's residence, throughout the following days shows that the people were hoping for something a tad more public. The remainder of the film chronicles the battle between these disparate camps—with Blair unwittingly serving as referee.

Michael Sheen as Tony Blair

It's all an interesting peek at the life of the Royal Family. On the surface, it's such minutia to focus on—the handling of an ex-family member's funeral. But the event obviously embodies so much more—historic precedent vs. modern celebrity worship, the traditional British "stiff upper lip" vs. a nation's grief spilling out into the public square. As the Queen aptly notices later in the film, there's been a change, a shift in values among her people. Yes, she comes to this realization a bit late in the game. But throughout the film we come to see that it's an honest mistake by a woman who was raised with the value of keeping one's feelings to oneself, and of handling everything quietly and with dignity. The dawning realization that she may not be as in touch with her people as she thought is the slow-burning tension of the film.

As with most Royal Family coverage these days, this easily could have been a nasty bit of tabloid sensationalism. Thankfully, The Queen rises above and takes the traditional English approach of respect and dignity. We see no bloody body when Diana dies, in fact we see no body at all. We're given the briefest hint of Charles (Alex Jennings) telling William and Henry of their mother's death—and we never see the boys' faces throughout the film. When the Queen finally cries, we see her only from behind. There are many scenes the directors and writers could have wrung for easy, cheap emotionalism. Thank goodness they opted instead for nuance, powerful use of silence, and a thoughtful, balanced look at a family tenuously bridging two worlds—past and present, commoner and royal.

The Prime Minister kisses Her Majesty's hand

Of course, none of this nuance would have worked without the stellar cast. Oscar talk is already buzzing about Mirren's portrayal of the Queen, and deservedly so. From the opening portrait-sitting scene, she embodies Queen Elizabeth II. And somehow she also communicates the absolutely appropriateness of this as an introduction to our main character—this is a woman who leads her life as if sitting for a portrait, knowing that others are watching and that every detail is being captured for posterity. Her mannerisms communicate volumes—from the way she clutches her pragmatic purses (as if she's about to be mugged any minute) to the way she strides about the palace and the breathtaking English countryside with sensible shoes and determined gait. But it's her facial expressions that are the true genius. Watching disturbing realizations dance across a face that's been trained for decades to be a study in stoicism is a wonder.

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