The Favourite

The Favourite is a dark and delicious treat. Set in a little-known murky period of history when the war in France was bleeding England dry and the rule of Queen Anne was beset on all sides by subterfuge and trickery, this little indie takes what could have been some pretty weighty subject-matter and mixes it with dead-pan comedy, shock-violence and japery in the best possible way.

It’s rare enough to see a historical epic fronted entirely by female leads and rarer still to see actresses play such wonderfully flawed, hilarious and fearsome characters. It was utterly refreshing to see The Favourite flip the usual period drama tropes on their head and have the women running the show, whilst the men flounce about in massive wigs, outrageous costumes, heels and beauty spots to hide their syphilitic scars. It exposes rather beautifully the ridiculous antics of courtly life and how the fate of the kingdom was decided by a gaggle of drunken aristocrats who enjoyed duck racing and throwing fruit at naked jesters.

Olivia Colman’s portrayal of the tortured and volatile Queen Anne steals the show and leaves no apology note. Here you get the dual honours of a monarch who has long been overlooked by history finally having her unbelievable story retold and Colman, who has too long been a side-character or supporting actress, finally getting the chance to show off her ludicrous talent. Colman plays a queen chased by tragedy, with more ups and downs than a medical graph, who on the one hand saves the war with France from the stupidity of the Whigs and Tories and on the other is crippled with illness, the loss of seventeen children, a relationship with cake that is far from healthy and penchant for collecting bunnies. Her physical acting is worthy of an award all unto itself – playing a character wracked by gout, suffering strokes, bouts of mania and crippling depression all whilst maintaining impeccable comedic timing is nothing short of awe-inspiring.

Rachel Weisz (Disobedience) is riveting as Anne’s closest confidante Lady Sarah, a steely individual unafraid to call the shots, most notably telling her majesty that “You look like a badger” and essentially low-key running England as ruthless puppeteer. Then comes Emma Stone (Battle of the Sexes) as the disgraced former-Lady Abigail who is introduced as a maid in the gainful employment of Her Majesty and quickly becomes the catalyst for much back-stabbing, power-playing, double-crossing and scape-goating. Stone delivers a snooty-British accent better than most snooty-British people are capable of and coincidentally delivers one of her best performances of her career.

I would be criminally understating things if I said director Yorgos Lanthimos (The Lobster) does complex characters. Here you get three sensation female protagonists for the price of one, whose loyalties, desires and agendas are the cinematic equivalents of a tangled ball of wool. As historical pieces go, this one takes the cake and force-feeds you it until you puke into an urn (you’ll see) and costume designer Sandy Powell and set-decorator Alice Felton are as worthy of acclaim as the film stars for the exquisite set pieces and illustrious getups that are guaranteed to have you drooling into your laps.

Lanthimos’ movies are normally the indie-buff’s wet dream, but though you still get a story with all his trademark oddball quirkiness and creepy camera angles, this is above all a thigh-slappingly brilliant comedy that also manages to be a gruesome Greek tragedy and can turn up the heat just as quickly as it can reduce you to chuckles and snorts of laughter. Above all, it’s a fucking brilliant piece of storytelling and is (I know this is cheapened because we’re still in early January) pegged to be one of 2019’s favourites.

9/10