Passionate, sensitive and misunderstood or an expensive waste of time - the same
controversy which once surrounded the young Queen of France has now attached itself
to Sophia Coppola's film. Relying on the viewer's existing familiarity with her story,
Coppola has taken a big gamble, addressing a naturally vivid and dramatic subject
through the medium of cautious touches and small glances. Hers is a film in which the
audience are made to feel like eavesdroppers catching whispered court gossip. It relies
entirely on its lead performance for an anchor. Fortunately, Kirsten Dunst is on stunning
form. Though not everyone will be willing to play along, those who do will consider this a
masterpiece.
Based on the book by noted historian and feminist Lady Antonia Fraser, Marie Antoinette
follows the life of the young Austrian princess from the point at which she leaves her
home to marry the Dauphin to the point at which both she and her husband must
acknowledge that the revolution has come. Any exploration of events thereafter would be
gratuitous, the emotional journey already complete.
The focus of the narrative is on its heroine's isolation, her difficulty in adjusting to her
strange new circumstances, her despair at her husband's lack of sexual interest (she
must produce an heir or risk losing everything), her struggle to deal with her own
passions and the impossible distance which exists between her life and that of the
common people.
Her sex life has been sanitised to an extent, possibly to avoid still pertinent prejudice
damaging audience sympathy, but strong visual imagery and Dunst's smouldering
performance make it clear that her adulterous activities were more than just casual flings.
Even at her most restrained she creates a sense of passion and power scarcely kept
under control. As the staid, naif Louis, Jason Schwartzman is the perfect foil, his
awkwardness gradually giving way to a deep-seated affection which reveals the
complexity of the man behind the sun king's image. When the real Louis was locked in
the Bastille, the philosopher Thomas Paine pleaded for his life with the words "kill the
King, but spare the man". He could not have had a better advocate than Coppola at his
side.
With its genuine Versailles locations and sumptuous costuming, Marie Antoinette is a
feast for the eyes. Dunst looks ravishing in the title role. The sets are perfect, brilliantly
detailed, with marvellous design work in food, jewellery, fans, wigs and shoes.
Omnipresent anachronistic champagne glasses recall a popular myth about the
wayward queen; her "Let them eat cake" line is mercifully well handled, acknowledging
its falsity if not the reason behind it.
The supporting cast are all solid; Steve Coogan may be playing Steve
Coogan, as usual, but the role he's been given means it doesn't really matter. But one of
the most remarkable things about this film is the delicate political balance it strikes. It's
impossible to watch this and not feel distressed by the thought of the young queen's
ultimate fate, yet it's equally possible to understand how public resentment was
occasioned. Making friends by finding a weaker figure at court to bully, playing games in
her quaint little toy village whilst the real peasants starved, Marie Antoinette is not all
sweetness and light - at the very least she might be held responsible for her failure to
take a real interest in the people for whom she was responsible, or, indeed, in anyone
beyond her immediate circle. By failing to make excuses for her in this regard, the film
makes her all the more compelling, giving her a certain rawness despite her immaculate
appearance.
The relationship which Coppola and Dunst built up whilst filming The Virgin Suicides
pays off, as they seem to understand each other intimately, the one speaking directly
through the other. Maybe it's not quite what audiences expected, but Marie Antoinette is a
remarkable film, vast in scope, yet unfailing human.