Spencer, Pablo Larrain’s latest work, and Jackie, his 2016 Jackie Kennedy biopic, come together to create a sort of diptych. Both films feature frightened, traumatised women who exist within a powerful institution, and both films are sensitively observed, ravishing to look at, and subtly performed. But for me, Jackie has the edge.
Set over the three day period from Christmas Eve to Boxing Day in 1991, Spencer oscillates between genuinely unsettling and frustratingly over-egged; Steven Knight’s script is the worst culprit when it comes to the latter. A motif about pheasants (“beautiful, but not very bright,”), for example, is taken too far – we know that Diana feels as if she is prey, there is no need for the script to signpost this quite so conspicuously. More effective is a late night excursion to Diana’s boarded up childhood home, complete with a spectral visitation from Anne Boleyn.
Whatever you think of Spencer’s more audacious conceits, it’s never boring, and it’s anchored by a startling performance from Kristen Stewart. She’s mannered, certainly, but this is hardly a criticism when playing Diana. Stewart nails that voice with its specific timbre and intonation, and has mastered Diana’s trademark: the shy head tilt and crooked smile, but it’s important to stress that this is not – nor is it aspiring to be – an entirely faithful imitation of the people’s princess. There are recognisable Diana-isms, but Stewart dials up the intensity to match the film around her, vamping like a pro in a series of stunning (if very early 90s) gowns and skirt suits.
She’s ably supported by a rotating roster of British heavyweights who each do sterling work. Timothy Spall is menacing – though we suspect he possesses hidden depths – as a former army general who keeps a close eye on the troubled princess. His insistence that Diana partake in the “fun,” tradition of weighing oneself on Christmas Eve and seeing how much weight you can gain by Boxing Day is the first of many triggers which lead her to relapsing into bulimia. Sean Harris shines as kind chef Darren, whose primary aspiration when it comes to his cooking is to “make our princess want something.” It’s a tender, gentle performance.
The film’s depiction of Diana’s battle with eating disorders manages to be both sensitive and unflinching, but Diana herself is never allowed to be anything less than ravishingly beautiful, even at her lowest – this is perhaps my biggest bone of contention with the film. Diana’s beauty is foregrounded in several conversations – her dresser, Maggie (Sally Hawkins, who manages to spin gold out of this paper thin character), posits that it is her most powerful weapon. The film seems to be tacitly suggesting – or at least it seems that way to me – that one of the most tragic aspects of Diana’s story is that she was unable to recognise her own beauty. Frankly, I felt this was somewhat insulting.
Spencer is by turns infuriating and spellbinding, held together by an incredible score from Radiohead’s Johnny Greenwood and a star turn by Kristen Stewart. Though some of its bolder, more overtly theatrical mechanisms fall flat, this “fable from a true tragedy,” is never dull.
3.5/5 stars
