With how much time I spend at the cinemas as opposed to
doing pretty much anything else, I end up relying a fair bit on my film intake
when it comes to learning certain things. Things like foreign cultures and the
history behind them. Because of this, especially when discussing historical
films from other countries, I’ve wound up learning more about that history from
films than anywhere else. For instance, through watching Bollywood films, I’ve
gained a certain level of understanding concerning the cultural strain between
the U.K. and India, like the line separating India and Pakistan from Begum Jaan. Of course, there’s also the element of bias to keep in consideration; no
matter what is being depicted on-screen, there is always some level of creator bias involved, even with films based
on historical details. So, basically, whatever I’ve picked up from films in
regards to history is always packaged with an understanding that the real-world
events may or may not have actually occurred as shown; it’s a weird tightrope
to walk. It’s because of this I tend to be lenient with most biopics, at least
in terms of accuracy to the real events, since films that are 100% true to the
story are exceptionally rare.
tl;dr As we get into today’s film concerning a
historical British monarch, I’m not going to focus too highly on historical accuracy; I’ll
just stick with efficacy at storytelling as always.
The plot: By chance, record keeper Abdul (Ali Fazal) is
tasked with going from India to Britain to present Queen Victoria (Judi Dench)
with a ceremonial coin. Over time, the two end up connecting, with Victoria
enlisting Abdul as her tutor to teach her about the Indian languages as well as
the Quran. As their friendship grows, Victoria’s son Prince Bertie (Eddie
Izzard) and the rest of her household believe that Victoria’s connection with a
servant is improper and needs to end by whatever means necessary.
This is a top-tier British cast and, thankfully, everyone
on-screen seems to deliver. Dench’s past experience, both in regal roles and as
playing Queen Victoria specifically, serves her well here as an incredibly
frank and heartfelt depiction of the monarch. Fazal works very nicely opposite
her and brings some definite oomph to the proceedings, even if his character’s
subservience occasionally enters the realms of slightly troubling. Adeel Akhtar
as Abdul’s tag-along friend Mohammed brings some of the funniest quips of the
entire film and helps a lot with the film’s attempt at culture-clash comedy,
something at definite odds with the fate and overall treatment of his
character.
Michael Gambon brings appropriate stuffiness as the Prime Minister
Lord Salisbury, same with Tim Pigott-Smith and Simon Callow who do much the
same. Fenella Woolgar as easily the most sympathetic member of the house
servants Miss Phipps is surprisingly solid, mainly because she delivers a lot
of pathos in her rather small role. Her scene as a messenger for the
household’s intentions with Victoria is quite gripping in how visibly shaken
Woolgar performs. Without question, though, the highlight of the production is
Eddie Izzard as Prince Bertie. Even with a cast largely comprised of people
acting aghast at what’s going on around them, Izzard stands out with his
perpetually annoyed and rather fiendish presence; it’s honestly weird that the
biggest cunt of a character ended up being the most entertaining to watch.
After the sophisticate screwball offering of Florence Foster Jenkins, it is quite satisfying to see that Frears is still holding strong to
those sensibilities. As much as I’ve already mentioned a certain monotony in
the cast list, that ends up being a major boon to the film’s sense of humour;
mainly, because most of the jokes are at their expense. Within moments of
seeing the royal palace and its inner workings, there’s a definite sense of the
tightly-choreographed schedule the Queen and her subjects run by, complete with
a bizarre dining sequence that looks more like a speed-eating competition than
anything assigned with royalty. It’s so stiff and, to be honest,
unnatural that it’s little wonder that we see the Queen openly sleeping at the
table.
Thankfully, the audience isn’t likely to join her as, between the
admissions of the wonky workings of top-down government and the comparisons
between Indian and British societal norms, it rings true in a way that is more
humourous than depressing. I feel kind of bad in hindsight for writing off Love
& Friendship as the kind of film people laugh through their noses at, since
this film works on the same methodology but does a far better job at it.
The biggest source of humour though, even more so than
knowing laughs at the aristocracy, comes from the culture clash once Abdul and
Mohammed enter the picture. To say that Great Britain and India have a
complicated relationship is putting it incredibly mildly. With that
in mind, it’s kind of interesting how the film juxtaposes norms between the two
cultures. As Abdul and Mohammed discover more of what British society considers
perfectly mundane, such as jelly made with animal by-products and even cultural
cuisine containing sheep guts, it’s hard not to see the partisanship this story
is carrying.
Given how much I’ve praised Frears for his even-handedness in the
past with Florence and even The Program, I really should be more annoyed with
this than I am. Then again, that’d be undermining the fact that the film raises
some decent points in the process. Even knowing the progress Western society
has made in terms of racial politics (yeah, it’s still not great, but at least
we’re at the point of recognizing sentience in non-whites), the way Victoria
and Abdul’s friendship takes form through him teaching her about the Quran and
the Taj Mahal, and her showing kindness in return, makes for a rather nice
central couple. I say “couple” in the sense that these are two people, as the
film thankfully doesn’t go down the romantic route and more of a familial
“you’re like a son to me” one. Given the actions of Victoria’s actual son in the film, it’s too easy to
see why she would appreciate that kind of connection.
I genuinely feel awkward talking about things that involve
Islam to any great extent these days. The way that the religion has been used
as a political battleground in recent years has made discussions involving it
rather tiresome; people’s opinions are set in stone by this point, and nothing
seems to result from the arguing aside from severe headaches. However, while I
am still hesitant, I do feel it’s worth bringing up given how the film itself
approaches the Muslim faith. It’s used as part of the culture clash, and
eventually part of the underhanded dealings of the staff to get Abdul out of
the picture, and while some points seem to be glossed over, the overall
depiction is rather mundane. It’s treated like any other form of religion, with
Victoria’s reasoning for learning about it and Abdul’s native language being
rather sound. As the Empress of India, it only serves to reason that she would
learn the language of her subjects; makes sense to me, at least.
Once the
persecution angle set in, the film truly enters its dramatic stride. When
confronted with the dirt Bertie and co. dug up on Abdul, Victoria shuts them
down with one of the most commendable self-aware monologues I’ve seen in a
while. Part of it is in the trailer, but the normally-embarrassing details of
the full version bring everything the film is building towards together: We are
not perfect, so why do we expect everyone else to be? More to the point, since
we are not perfect, who are we to deem others as lesser? It’s almost-painfully
contemporary, to the point of making it too clear why we are getting this film
released at the time it has, but it highlights an approach to racial politics that,
quite frankly, more people should be using. There’s a reason I try and play
down my own opinions and ideals in my reviews, and it’s the same reason that
Dench’s performance rings as true as it does: It’s not hiding behind a pretence
of “intelligence”, but rather just showing a point of view and the reasoning
behind it; nothing more, nothing less. Huh. I guess Frears’ penchant for
presenting frank honesty is still here after all.
All in all, while possibly disposable as a feature, it’s
still serviceable in what it tries to say. The acting is excellent, with
special mention to Dench and Izzard for being as engaging as they are, and the
writing highlights a based-on-actual-events story (with the film even admitting
straight-up that it’s only “mostly” based on reality) that makes a lot of sense
in terms of showing why people shouldn’t act like dicks to other people. No
doubt, this will get derided as ‘immigration apologetics’ or misrepresenting the real plight of Indians during the time, but for me personally,
I enjoyed it for what it is: A well-delivered comedy of manners with touches of
societal commentary.
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