Elizabeth: The Golden Age (2007)

Elizabeth: The Golden Age
Dir. Shekhar Kapur
Premiered at Toronto September 9, 2007

Confession time: while no critic can appraise a film in a truly unbiased fashion, Elizabeth: The Golden Age is exceptionally difficult for me, not because of any disagreement with the film’s portrayal of history– though that’s also in there– but mainly because I’m just fucking tired of its subject.

Elizabeth I is probably the most frequently depicted English monarch in all of film and television, at least outside the UK. This obsession seems to have peaked between the late 1990s and mid-2000s, during which she was portrayed by Judi Dench, Imogen Slaughter, Tamara Hope, Margot Kidder, Lorna Lacey, Catherine McCormack, Anne-Marie Duff, Helen Mirren, Angela Pleasance, and of course Cate Blanchett, who became a household name on the strength of her performance in 1998’s Elizabeth, to which The Golden Age is a direct sequel.

Together, the two films effectively bookend this period of Elizabeth-mania, and while I didn’t absolutely despise Elizabeth, it was hard to watch for how little it varied from other media that came after. Every one of these films and shows wants to be the definitive portrait of the monarch, and accordingly they not only cover the same events, but do so with largely the same perspective: there’s always the vaguely feminist theme of a strong woman needing to prove herself in a man’s world, the boilerplate political intrigue, the starry-eyed romanticism of taking on Spain and dreaming of a future British Empire, and of course the evergreen speculation that the Virgin Queen was nothing of the sort.

On top of that, Elizabeth is a bad film anyway. There’s a good case to be made for taking liberties in service of a larger theme or purpose, but here the inaccuracies outnumber the facts, what few truths appear unadulterated butt in and are quickly whisked away like unwanted guests, and the lot of it is presented with the most sensationalistic of ‘90s cheese. Mind you, the direction and acting are fine if somewhat perfunctory, but there’s no escape from a bad script, and The Golden Age happily doubles down.

Released four years after the conclusion of Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings trilogy, The Golden Age attempts to capture the same fantastical uplift as those films, but lacks the budget ($55 million), adequate runtime (114 minutes), or sense of direction to make it so. The majority of the film attempts to juggle Elizabeth’s potential interest in explorer/pirate Sir Walter Raleigh (Clive Owen) and his subsequent betrayal with one of her handmaidens (Abbie Cornish) with a continuation of the foreign machinations depicted in the first: the Spanish crown sponsors an assassination attempt against Elizabeth (featuring Eddie Redmayne as the gunman), and Queenie’s trusted advisor Walsingham (Geoffrey Rush) implicates the legandary Mary, Queen of Scots (Samantha Morton) as a co-conspirator.

Call me unsentimental, but while I found neither plot to be compelling in the form presented, I must say that the latter had far more potential. Alas, the filmmakers went for maximum bodice-ripping while reducing the meatier cloak-and-dagger business to mere bullet points, despite it being the main driver of the film.

After Mary is executed, the Spanish Armada is sent to conquer England, and history goes completely out the window. The Spanish and English ships race through a storm– the real battle was under mostly clear skies. Elizabeth forgives Walter Raleigh so he can save the day at sea– the real leaders, Drake and Howard, are relegated to minor roles, as is Elizabeth’s court philosopher John Dee. The battle is a massive slaughter with the whole Spanish Armada sinking in flames– most of the ships ran aground in Belgium or had to go all the way around the British Isles to return to Spain.

If the governing philosophy behind Elizabeth: The Golden Age could be reduced to a single scene, it would be the prelude to battle in which Elizabeth herself rides out in full plate armor on a white horse, pledging to fight to the last as a common soldier should the time come. This climactic humiliation is mercifully elevated to so-bad-it’s-good status when the horse keeps walking in circles, forcing Cate Blanchett to constantly reorient herself in an losing battle to maintain her composure.

How Did It Do?
Elizabeth: The Golden Age grossed $74.2 million, too little to recoup its marketing budget and less than the original Elizabeth, even accounting for inflation. Although it managed an obligatory Oscar for Best Costume Design (and a nomination for Blanchett), critics were much harder on the picture than its predecessor, lambasting its soap operatics, loose history, and strangely vacillating characterization of the Queen herself (though that’s true of almost everyone portrayed).

If Elizabeth failed in all the same ways The Golden Age did, why is the former better remembered? Probably because the first came about in an era of greater tolerance for cheesy melodrama, and probably because it kicked off the Elizabeth craze, whereas The Golden Age heralded its merciful death.

Now it’s her father Henry VIII who’s getting run into the ground.

Next Time: Honeydripper

Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End (2007)

Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End
Dir. Gore Verbinski
Premiered May 19, 2007

“Can’t Jack Sparrow just go looking for some treasure?”

2003’s Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl was not supposed to be a success. In the waning years of Michael Eisner’s influence at Disney, the company decided to experiment by making three films, each based on a classic attraction at Disneyland and Walt Disney World. The first, 2002’s The Country Bears, was ridiculed by critics, in large part for the very audacity of trying to adapt a film from a theme part attraction, and Disney was so certain that Pirates of the Caribbean would be similarly received that the initiative’s third film, Haunted Mansion, was effectively retooled as a preemptive apology.

However, Disney had delegated more responsibility than usual to the producers of these films, which proved advantageous when Pirates producer Jerry Bruckheimer and director Gore Verbinski released exactly what such a movie should have been: a cracking adventure with laughs, family-friendly scares, and a newly iconic character in Captain Jack Sparrow (Johnny Depp). It was the fourth-biggest film of 2003 and critics adored it. So when it came to making a sequel, the formula should have been obvious: send Captain Jack bumbling through another spooky high adventure. And that’s technically what they did; unfortunately they were hobbled by a relatively new Hollywood convention.

By 1989, three of the 80s’ biggest film franchises, Star Wars, Indiana Jones, and Mad Max, had all concluded after the release of their respective third installments. That same year, Back to the Future demonstrated its intention to make no more than three films by producing and releasing both of its sequels back-to-back. Except for the odd Lethal Weapon or long-running legacy franchise like James Bond, the trilogy instantly became an industry standard. It’s possible that studios, still relatively new to the ubiquity of sequels, were intimidated by the possibility of working on so many properties indefinitely. Maybe they thought the finality of a third film would oblige people to see it. In the case of The Lord of the Rings, it was just common sense. And despite being adapted from a seven-book series, it was not at all certain that the third Harry Potter movie, Alfonso Cuarón’s Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, wouldn’t be the last.

However, 2007 would see the trilogy model finally wear out its welcome, thanks in large part to the bad examples set by both Spider-Man 3 and Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End.

By consigning Pirates of the Caribbean to the trilogy model, Disney compelled what could and should have been an episodic series to retroactively conform to an overarching three-act structure; giving the entirety of the Pirates franchise a sense of coherence that was deeply unsuited to its premise. The first movie ends with Jack unwittingly helping local hero Will Turner (Orlando Bloom) fulfill his character arc and live happily ever after with his darling Elizabeth (Keira Knightley). Having defeated the bad guys and retaken his beloved ship the Black Pearl, Jack is free to find a new adventure.

But because this is now a trilogy, he can’t– instead, in Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest, poor Will has to come back and discover his father– what is it with sequels and fathers?– enslaved by the grim reaper of the sea, Davy Jones (Bill Nighy). By the end of the film, Jones has summoned the mythical kraken to devour Jack, leading Will and Elizabeth on a quest to resurrect him with the help of Barbossa (Geoffrey Rush), the similarly resuscitated baddie of the first movie (I can’t blame them for this; Geoffrey Rush as a pirate is too delightful to pass up).

By ending its second film on such a cliffhanger, Pirates demonstrates another pitfall of trilogies. Having adopted the model of Back to the Future by producing both sequels concurrently, we are left with one movie that stands alone and two movies that interlink with each other so thoroughly that they can’t be enjoyed separately. And because the third film absolutely must be the last, Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End feels a need to be far more portentous than the first installment ever was, opening with a questionably relevant scene of a child being hanged, and continuing accordingly with a confusing, often surreal plot utterly convinced of its own significance.

Which makes it really hard to explain, but here goes nothing…

Apparently Jack wasn’t just any pirate, but the Caribbean’s Pirate Lord– a level of authority wildly out of keeping with his character, but whatever– and his death without having chosen a successor has thrown the pirate community all over the goddamn world into chaos just as Davey Jones has teamed up with the East India Company to produce the first complete world map and wipe out piracy for good.

In yet another reversal of established character, it is Elizabeth who assumes control of Jack’s ship, the Black Pearl. Through a complicated series of agreements with another Pirate Lord (Chow Yun-Fat), the Pearl’s crew rescue Jack from Davey Jones’ Locker, a non-metaphorical Dali-esque purgatory where Johnny Depp can do endless schtick. As it turns out, nobody really wants Jack around, but they are approaching an arbitrary ten-year interval wherein Will’s father (Stellan Skarsgård) can be freed from Jones’ service, and apparently only Jack can convince all the world’s pirates to join forces and make war against Jones and the Company.

Holy shit, it’s Return of the Jedi. I just realized that. It’s Return of the Jedi, but without any pacing, character consistency, or sense of direction. Also, the Greek nymph Calypso (Naomie Harris) factors in there somewhere.

If you’ve only seen the first two films and are completely lost, you’ve nothing to be ashamed of– the worldbuilding here is overextensive and incomprehensible. If you’re confused as to why the movie would ask us to cheer not for the characters we’ve been following but for the institution of piracy itself, you absolutely should be. And if you’ve only seen the first movie and think all of this sounds completely up-its-own-ass, you’re absolutely right: this isn’t fun, it’s a public exhibition of mental gymnastics, so concerned with wrapping everything up in a cohesive ‘mythos’ that it forgets to make sense or, God forbid, entertain.

How Did It Do?
Budgeted at $300 million, Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End was the most expensive movie ever made at the time of its release. It still turned a profit, approaching $1 billion in worldwide revenue to become the biggest movie of the year. It also got nominated for the Academy Awards for Best Makeup and Best Visual Effects, but won neither.

It’s odd that, like Spider-Man 3, such a successful film would help bring an unexpectedly swift end to Hollywood’s trilogy fixation. However, unlike Spider-Man 3, critics were never blinded by At World’s End’s visual flair: it earned a 45% rating on RottenTomatoes, with critics decrying the film’s incoherence, heartlessness, misplaced darkness, Depp’s descent into self-parody, and most notably the clarity with which it exposed the failings of trilogies themselves, hence the quote at the start of this review.

In a sort of self-fulfilling prophecy, the film ends with the possibility of yet another sequel, as Barbossa steals the Black Pearl and Jack goes on a quest to find the Fountain of Youth. And with the taboo against fourth movies shattered in the 2010s, the saga continued with On Stranger Tides. But that’s a story for another year.

Next Time: Sicko