Written by Emma Holbrook, Ellie Webster, Verity Dryden and Maria Margarita
Henry VIII and Catherine Parr © Firebrand
Warning–this piece might contain spoilers so read at your own caution.
Hateful. Vengeful. Sinister.
Firebrand is the latest Tudor motion picture drama to take cinema and viewers by hurricane, not just any storm. Based on the fantastically written book ‘The Queen's Gambit’ by Elizabeth Fremantle about Henry VIII’s sixth and final wife; the brilliant and politically astute Catherine Parr. This motion picture is just as much a psychological thriller as it is a historical drama, with its dark and shocking content leaving viewers entertained as well as slightly disturbed.
Portrayal of Henry VIII:
However, I won’t be focusing on the vastly intelligent Catherine Parr today, I will be focusing on Jude Law’s Henry VIII.
Firebrand allows the viewer a rather modern glimpse of Henry VIII; there is no doubt the film is massively historically accurate with its costume and certain storylines which is certainly a factor in its success, without taking away from the fantastic novel it is based on. Yet, what truly made Firebrand so captivating for myself as a member of an eager audience was ultimately Henry and the camera angles in which the Tudor Titan is framed.
There are multiple threads being continuously woven throughout the film, delicately and shatteringly weaving a very menacing and insidious portrait of the Tudor King, which previous dramas, I feel, have not managed to so successfully achieve. Other motion pictures and series have accurately managed to portray his temper and his penchant for being a spoiled and impertinent brat, but not pinned with such gravity another accurate label; a perpetrator of abuse. It is a refreshing yet frightening take on the megalomaniacal monarch, for me Henry's scenes focus purely on his ability to abuse those around him in a multitude of different ways.
Of course, if anyone’s spouse conducted themselves as Henry VIII did today, we’d recognise it as abuse immediately, however because of the space of over 500 years between him and us, his behavior's are rarely likened to abuse, being viewed mostly through the lens of historical fact.
Henry really was a monster.
He is a traditional icon of masculinity; his broad sloping shoulders dominating the screen when he is the main focus and in centre, his rich and delightfully detailed costumes lavishly adding colourful excitement–in complete contrast to Henry's low and unpredictable mood and the disturbing and threatening audio between characters. This contrast almost sets the tone that the film is to be somewhat unpredictable. His presence is undeniably captivating and although it is an excellent performance from Jude Law, it’s a little too good as Henry isn’t captivating me with positivity–he filled me with sheer terror.
There is something incredibly unsettling about how Henry refers to himself in the third person, for example, referring to himself as ‘we’ and ‘us’ instead of ‘I’. His quick flights into subtle and menacing anger, with Jude’s guttural rumbling tone when chastising his wife stirred deep seated feelings of unease within me. Of course, the film allows for slight exaggerations of his character, such as him inspecting a female courtier's teeth like a gift horse. Jude’s Henry is spiteful, vicious, emotionally unstable and malevolently erratic.
The way his scenes are framed are slightly claustrophobic, with items or people passing closely by or being permanently placed in the foreground, creating an immersive feeling for the audience of being locked in and unable to escape the toxicity of the Tudor Court. Main characters falling partially out of shot during scenes of turmoil directly caused by Henry, emphasise the potential malice and chaos of abusive relationships and how one dimensional Henry was capable of being when he wanted to switch off his humanity.
We also have to take into account that Henry himself was also beautifully manipulated by almost everyone around him, in order to further and execute their own political and religious agendas. This point is not to make an excuse of Henry’s own behaviours but to show this cacophony of voices claiming loyalty, utter devotion and absolute obedience masked the toxicity of the Tudor courts underbelly in plain sight. No one was safe from how explosive and terrifying an existence the Tudor Court could be.
Ultimately Jude Law's Henry will go down in History as one of the best performances of the King to ever grace our scenes. He perfectly balances Henry's ability to be loving and turn cold, seemingly without warning. Jude’s Henry almost takes a sadistic delight in ruling over a frightened court, displaying his terrifying capability of just how menacing, cruel and hollow he could be.
Hateful. Vengeful. Sinister.
© Firebrand
Portrayal of Katherine Parr:
According to Alicia Vikander, Firebrand was not only a film but it also served as a history lesson to her. And this is quite very much reflected in her performance as Katherine, in a role incredibly convincing that you could feel the emotions Katherine experiences in her journey all throughout the film.
The movie opens with Katherine as Queen Regent whilst Henry is away in France, out to fight another war. We then see her, being escorted by uniformed guards and a few female attendants, riding through the English countryside towards some woodland. When they reach the trees she dismounts and tells the soldiers, “You don’t go any further – women only.” Leaving the puzzled horsemen, she and her women proceed through the woods as we start to hear a distant female voice. Anne Askew comes to the scene in Katherine’s presence, preaching a fiery sermon which leaves Katherine intrigued.
Vikander’s performance is a highlight, delivering an energy to the role that absolutely reflects the righteous, defiant, and caring figure that the historical records describe Katherine as alongside beautifully capturing the transformation of a confident and educated Queen to a young woman in desperation, walking on eggshells around her horrifying husband. However, the film tends to dip into uncharted waters in its own attempt to portray Katherine’s relationship with motherhood. This may be due to its literary source and the usual taking of liberties in a historical drama, as the film emphasises an imagined pressure that Katherine must’ve felt to produce a spare heir for the Tudor throne when Henry was presumably impotent and had poor health by the time he was married to Katherine.
The film’s inclusion of this frightening race for Katherine to fall pregnant and perform her duties as a woman comes across as somehow predictable based on how women are typically understood in other historical productions. Needless to say, the close bonds Katherine forms with her stepchildren, most notably with the future Elizabeth I, are authentic and adds a more sentimental warmth that loosens the time-ticking bomb of the film’s narrative evolution.
© Firebrand
Portrayal of Mary and Elizabeth Tudor:
Something that stood out amongst the fabulously designed costumes and the delicately handled religious matters was the casting of two important women in Tudor history; the future Queens Mary I and Elizabeth I.
It is no secret that these women, despite the vast influence they held over not just England but history as a whole, have had mixed reviews when it comes to casting.
In Mary’s case, the actress is either very, very much older than the age the Queen would have been at that time or does not appear to have any of the Spanish characteristics she inherited from her mother—or even the red hair passed onto her by her father.
Whilst Elizabeth also shares the issue of having older actresses portraying her—one example being in the final season of Starz’s The Tudors where a six or seven-year-old Elizabeth is depicted to be much older, in her teenage years, at thirteen or fourteen. However, she also has been misrepresented through actresses having bright blonde hair rather than the pale red hair displayed within her numerous portraits.
As you can see, both sisters have the same issues regarding representation—if you also add in the lack of attention to Mary’s softer side to her relationship with Elizabeth or Elizabeth’s extraordinary intelligence from an early age. Nonetheless, Firebrand has achieved something that few others have: accurately (or as much as one possibly can with history) portraying the sisters not solely based on appearance but with character and reputation also.
Starting off with the eldest sister; Princess Mary, who was brilliantly brought to life by the Spanish-British actress, Patricia ‘Patsy’ Ferran. In all honesty, Patsy delivered an astonishing performance as the heartbroken and devout Catholic; Princess Mary. Choosing a Spanish-British actress in her thirties (as Mary would have been during Firebrand which is set in 1546) was a strong casting choice on the producers’ part; Mary herself was half Spanish from her maternal side and British on her paternal side and she possessed the physical characteristics of both ethnicities which are clearly visible with Patsy. This is something that we have never seen with Mary and this symbolises the importance of accuracy within this movie; every detail has been carefully considered and well delivered.
Patsy Ferran brings out a side to Princess Mary which we have not seen beforehand; her vulnerability in the relationship with her father. While, admittedly, her scenes are limited in comparison to Elizabeth, she stands out as an important character in the events that follow Katherine Parr’s marriage to Henry VIII. Often, Mary’s relationships with her stepmothers, particularly Katherine Parr, are overlooked and not much mentioned but Firebrand offers us a glimpse into Queen Katherine and Princess Mary’s relationship.
Whilst the film occurs during Katherine’s marriage to Henry VIII, prior to this, she maintained a close, friendly relationship with Princess Mary which was slightly damaged by Katherine’s marriage to her father and their differences in religion. This—the strain in their relationship—is highlighted in a scene where Mary makes clear her religious and political beliefs that directly challenges her stepmother’s power and security in England. Others might take this as a personal attack on Mary’s behalf whilst it might interest viewers to keep in mind that Mary, even years following her mother’s death, clung on tightly to her Catholic faith and her belief that her mother, Catherine of Aragon, was Henry VIII’s true wife and Queen. To see Mary stick up for herself in such a manner without exaggerating her piety or portraying her as mentally unstable—as can be seen in Elizabeth (1998)—is a breath of fresh air. The movie permits the viewer to see a more human, vulnerable and independent side of her rather than the more preferred pious, outspoken and deranged version of Hollywood.
The only criticism one might find is in a scene showcasing a private conversation between Mary and her sister Elizabeth where they are discussing Katherine Parr’s future as Queen and the untimely demise of both of their mothers. What perturbed me slightly was while she was describing the events of her parents’ divorce and her mother’s subsequent exile, ill-health and death; she was laughing the entire time. Whether this was meant to be interpreted as a nervous laugh, it is not clear. What is clear is that this is the only noticeable disappointing aspect of Mary’s character in this movie; knowing how passionately Mary defended and praised her mother through her life, it is completely absurd and out of character for Mary to laugh at her mother’s—and, as a result, her own—disgrace and embarrassment from her father abandoning her mother in favour of Anne Boleyn. Especially since it is believed by many historians that Mary held Elizabeth, at least in some regard, responsible for her own circumstances at that time—Elizabeth had become the new Princess whilst Mary had become illegitimate, hence it is strange that Mary would appear to both laugh at her mother’s death in a disregarding manner and also not have some reaction to Elizabeth discussing her own mother’s death.
Moving onto the younger sister, Princess Elizabeth played by the talented Junia Rees who not only looked of the right age (as Elizabeth was thirteen in 1546) but she bears a striking and almost identical resemblance to the portrait of Elizabeth in 1546 by William Scrots—I doubt any other actress could have closely matched this portrait as much as Junia Rees. Truly, Elizabeth stole the spotlight in Firebrand, without a shadow of a doubt, despite having only a handful of scenes—similar to how she does in the novel of which the film is based upon.
Rather than the calculating, opinionated and at times, very childish manner in which she is presented in the novel, we are presented with a kind, caring and often frightened version of the future Virgin Queen. Her understanding of the fragility of her relationship with her father and her future at court is present throughout, as we see Junia Rees bring Elizabeth’s inner vulnerability and worry of suffering the same fate as her mother to the screen.
Interestingly, Firebrand highlights the visible contrast between the half-sisters; in almost all of her scenes, Mary makes a mention of her mother and her body language when doing this reads as confident and comfortable in speaking about her mother. Whereas Elizabeth makes only one mention of her mother and when she does, her voice is a mere whisper and her body language reads as uncomfortable and anxious. Not only does this perfectly represent the two sisters, with one having lost her mother as a teenager and the other with barely any memory of her beheaded mother but it also represents the influence of their father in speaking about their mothers—Mary knows that, despite her mother’s failure to provide a son, her father still respected her mother and most likely bade her no ill-will.
On the other hand, Elizabeth acts as a lasting memory of her mother—in Henry’s mind, he still acts as if the charges brought against her were indeed true and her reputation as a witch, adulteress, traitor and her guilt of incest linger around the court, highlighting Elizabeth’s anxiety in mentioning her mother at court. An important detail yet a small one in contrast to the rest of the film.
One scene in particular that stood out was an early scene where Elizabeth happily presents Katherine with her translation of a religious text where Katherine, whilst extremely proud of her stepdaughter, offers her some advice regarding the accuracy of her translation. This is a beautiful example of the relationship that Katherine and Elizabeth had as well as an insight into how intelligent Elizabeth was at such a tender age. We know that Elizabeth gifted her stepmother a book of translations as Katherine was also an intelligent woman who both respected and loved Elizabeth as she was a childless mother and Elizabeth a motherless child—the inclusion of this scene adds an extra special quality to this film which is, for about ninety-nine percent of its duration, is dark and psychologically-disturbing. To see the family dynamic that these two sisters had with their final stepmother brought some relief to the viewers to realise that, in an era where many women at court would have lived in constant fear of men and the King, even his closest female relatives experienced some joy and relief from the anxiety and hatred they held towards the King for the pain and suffering he caused them. Junia Rees portrayed Elizabeth so brilliantly that I cannot find a single detail to criticise; it felt as if Elizabeth, the future Queen Elizabeth I, was actually standing in the room with us and honestly, chills ran down my spine.
© Firebrand
Costumes:
The costumes displayed in Firebrand are nothing short of utter brilliance. One of the key components of the Tudor wardrobe which I was most pleased to see executed perfectly was the French hood. Previous attempts at encapsulating the beauty and controversy which the French hood represented during the sixteenth century can be rather difficult, considering no surviving hoods exist in the modern day. However, that has not stopped Academy-Award winner Michael O’Connor from articulating them so beautifully, that they practically felt like a character in themselves!
The headpiece is often displayed in film and TV raised above the head and without the chinstrap, which can be seen in a plethora of contemporary paintings, simply because it ‘frames the face’ of the wearer ‘better,’ according to O’Connor. However, taking the majority of his inspiration from Holbein’s workshop, the experienced designer who has worked on various period pieces, such as The Duchess (2008), made the effort to include a chinstrap and lay the hood down on the actress's head. O’Connor revealed that the mechanisms of his hoods, chinstraps and all, made the lead actress Alicia Vikander feel ‘constrained,’ which is rather poignant considering the character arc her character undergoes!
Another thing that was brought into consideration during the production of the costumes was their authenticity both on film and offscreen.
O’Connor stated in an interview that his costumes, which were intended to be considerably lighter than an actual Tudor gown, were created to be accurate yet comfortable without compromising the authenticity of the gowns. But this pressure was eased by Vikander’s experience as a dancer, allowing her to move without much constriction. On the other hand, Jude Law, who staged a frightfully intense Henry VIII, wanted all of the weight of his character. Law’s body was padded underneath the thick layers of fabric, jewels and clothing, adding to the faithful nature of the film. Additionally, O’Connor made note of the meticulous effort that was made to construct an image of who each character was through their clothing. For instance, for Catherine, her identity as queen was emphasised through her adornments of jewellery and fur trimmings. Otherwise, she would have just looked like another courtier. These are modes of fashion that allowed Catherine to stand out in comparison to any of her courtly inferiors: all but her imposing husband, who is simultaneously embellished with fur and jewels.
Firebrand does a remarkably excellent job at making the viewer believe they are directly interacting with a sitter of a Tudor painting. This would not have been so successful if it had not been for the splendour and genius of O’Connor’s meticulously designed wardrobe. Simply, it would not have been the film it was if it had not been for the costumes. They are timelessly executed from start to finish, even during the scenes of Catherine hunched in a cell awaiting her impending doom, the viewer actually feels like they have been transported into a visualised haven of the trials and tribulations of the Tudor court.
© Firebrand
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