The Posthumous Image of Anne Boleyn, A Series: Part 3 – How Feminism Shaped Our Favorite Tudor ‘Mean’ Girl

Anne Boleyn might have lost her head in 1536, but she has been living rent-free in pop culture ever since. Her story, full of ambition, love, betrayal, politics, and one of the most famous executions in history, has captivated filmmakers for over a century. From the silent film era to prestige TV, Anne has been endlessly reimagined, reinvented, and repackaged to suit the cultural climate of each era; and if there is one consistent thread through all these portrayals, it is how Anne is shaped by the version of feminism (or lack thereof) that dominates at the time. Whether she is a doomed romantic, a manipulative seductress, or a proto-girlboss, Anne reflects our evolving ideas of what women can be, especially powerful women who dared to challenge the norms. Her character swings between victim and villain, saint and sinner, feminist icon, and cautionary tale. From demure martyr to unapologetically sexual power player, each cinematic Anne offers insight into how society has chosen to interpret her legacy at that moment in time.

In this blog post, we will take a whirlwind trip through Anne Boleyn’s screen legacy from the 1920s through the early 2010s. We will look at how portrayals of Anne have shifted with the tides of feminism. From the early silent films, all the way through to Natalie Dormer’s fierce and flirtatious Anne in The Tudors. Whether you are Team Natalie Portman, Team Natalie Dormer, or a fan of the classics, there is no denying that Anne Boleyn continues to fascinate because she embodies both the promise and peril of female ambition.

1920–1960: The Silent Martyr and the Cautionary Queen

Henny Porten in the 1920 silent film Anna Boleyn

The earliest film portrayals of Anne Boleyn reflect a very specific and very limited view of womanhood. The 1920 silent film Anna Boleyn by German director Ernst Lubitsch cast Henny Porten as a noble, gentle victim undone by a tyrannical Henry VIII. This version of Anne is more saint than schemer, a damsel swept up in the machinations of male power. There's very little agency here, but that is pretty typical for female characters of the era, especially those based on historical figures. She is more of a passive symbol of tragedy and cautionary woe than a fully fleshed-out person. Perhaps a warning for the women of their time to stay in their lane, keep their virtues, and their heads! Outrageous really, but a beautiful film of its time.

Merle Oberon in the 1933 film The Private Life of Henry VIII

Fast-forward to 1933’s The Private Life of Henry VIII, starring Charles Laughton. Merle Oberon’s Anne Boleyn has only a small part, but it is a telling one (and perhaps telling in itself is the small part she plays for such a history altering woman). She is beautiful, clever, and knows how to use her charm. But her fate is inevitable, as is her doom. There is a subtle moral lesson embedded in her rise and fall: ambition, especially in a woman, comes with a steep price. This Anne is neither villain nor hero, but her demise serves as a warning rather than an inspiration.

These early portrayals link explicitly together to demonstrate the expectations of women at this time, and come at a time when traditional gender roles were being reinforced rather than challenged. Anne was used to exemplify the dangers of female ambition in a patriarchal world. She is tragic, yes, but not tragic in a way that invites empathy for her intelligence or drive. Instead, these Annes often feel like placeholders for a morality tale about keeping women in their place. It is giving brothers Grimm for the early 20th century woman.

1990s and early 2000’s: Anne Boleyn as the Original Mean Girl

Promotion poster for Sex in the City

By the 1990s, things had changed. A lot. A post war Britain had come and gone, women had clawed their way out of the home into the world of work and independence after having fought for the right to do so, aided by the phenomenal role of women during the war years that changed how women were to be viewed and valued forever. But on the world did turn, and the rise of third-wave feminism brought a new cultural fascination with complex, often unapologetic women. This was the era of Clueless, Sex and the City, Friends, and a media landscape increasingly populated by sassy, fashion-forward women who were unafraid to take what they wanted. Enter Natalie Portman’s Anne Boleyn in The Other Boleyn Girl (2003 BBC version and 2008 film adaptation).

Natalie Portman in 2008 film The Other Boleyn Girl

Let’s be honest. This Anne Boleyn would’ve fit right in at a high school lunch table with Regina George. Portman’s Anne is manipulative, ambitious, and emotionally volatile, but she is also magnetic. She uses her sexuality (in the subtlest yet most powerful of ways), intelligence, and cunning to get ahead in a world designed to keep her down. In this version, Anne is not a victim of male power, for the first time, she is a player in the game. It is this portrayal of Anne that in my opinion surpasses what the incredible Genevieve Bujold did for post war Anne. Bujold was the first Anne we see with fire in her belly, yet she was still swept away in the tide of a man’s chess board. We see her helpless in the eye of the lust storm that was the King’s affections. However, Portman’s Anne being a firm player in her own game, enabled at last some agency for Anne in her own tragedy.

Of course, this portrayal came with its own complications. The “mean girl” Anne often feels more synthetic than historical. She is framed as the dark sister to Scarlett Johansson’s sweet and passive Mary Boleyn, whom the film adaptation is actually about! Though writer Phillipa Gregory faces huge criticism for her use of poetic license, I will always die on the hill that she brings women who were marginalised in the history record out of the shadows and gives them a voice in the vast space of historical literature. Moreover, while Portman brings emotional depth to the role, the script often reduces Anne to a mix of jealousy and scheming rather than true political savvy, perhaps a sexist trope of women trying to navigate their own stories, but are hit by the helplessness of their own scheming - eye roll the patriarchy am I right?

Still, this version of Anne reflects a culture that was starting to celebrate female power, even if that celebration was still a bit superficial or stunted. She is not “nice,” but she is interesting. She is not innocent, but she is not stupid. And she is definitely not going down without a fight.

2000–2010: The Sexy, Strategic Anne

Natalie Dormer and Jonathan Rhys Meyers in the television series The Tudors (2007-2010)

The 2000s ushered in a new wave of feminist discourse—one that emphasised sexual empowerment, autonomy, and owning your narrative. Enter The Tudors (2007–2010), Showtime’s steamy historical drama where Anne Boleyn, played by Natalie Dormer, is not just sexy and breathtakingly beautiful, she owns her sexuality. She is smart, politically astute, and (almost) entirely in control of her rise to power. Dormer’s Anne is arguably the most fully realised cinematic version of the queen to date.

From the moment she appears on screen, Dormer’s Anne is captivating. She knows how to flirt, but she also knows how to negotiate, influence, and manipulate court politics. Unlike previous portrayals, this Anne is not punished by the narrative for wanting power. In fact, we are encouraged to root for her, even as her methods get morally murky. Her relationship with Henry VIII (played by Jonathan Rhys Meyers) is passionate and toxic in equal measure, and her downfall is portrayed with genuine tragedy rather than moral condemnation.

This Anne reflects the early 2000s feminism that aimed to reclaim sexuality as power. But there is a trade-off. In making Anne such a seductive figure, The Tudors risks veering into soft-core territory at times. There is a fine line between empowerment and objectification, and while Dormer walks it well, the series sometimes leans more toward spectacle than substance. This was an issue for Dormer herself, who talks about the issue of over sexualising Anne with Susan Bordo. She tells Bordo of her insistence with the directors to keep Anne brunette, because of course the early 2000’s waif was always a skinny blonde (apparently, we do have more fun). But Dormer was a keen historian herself, and was passionate about keeping Anne as true to historical likeness as possible. When filming Anne’s last scenes on the scaffold (which were actually shot before the rest of the Dormer content), it is said the emotional toll on Dormer herself was staggering. Dormer felt the injustices of the Queen’s demise not just as a character in the script, but as a real woman of history so wrongfully murdered. Dormer had such a honest respect for the true Anne, her depiction must be considered a stand-alone performance.

Natalie Dormer as Anne Boleyn during her execution scene in The Tudors (2007-2010)

Dormer brought nuance, depth, and a real sense of historical tragedy to the role. Her Anne is a woman trying to survive and thrive in a world that was never built for her success. She is ambitious, but also idealistic. Flawed, but fully human. And maybe that is why she is so beloved. She captures the complicated reality of being a powerful woman in a patriarchal society (and does it all in killer costumes!).

What Anne Boleyn Says About Us

The cinematic portrayals of Anne Boleyn between 1920 and 2010 reflect the changing tides of feminism, moving from passive victimhood to empowered agency. In the early years, Anne was framed as a tragic figure caught in the webs of political power, with little agency beyond her relationships with men. By the 1990s, however, Anne became a more ruthless and ambitious character, embodying a "mean girl" vibe that reflected the more competitive nature of girl power feminism. In the 2000s, Anne’s character evolved into a confident, yet perhaps overly sexualised figure, embodying a feminist ideal of empowerment through sexual freedom.

Ultimately, the changing representations of Anne on screen show how feminist ideals have evolved over time, but they also raise important questions about historical accuracy. The challenge of balancing entertainment with the complexities of historical representation often results in portrayals that emphasise certain aspects of Anne's character at the expense of others. For example, while the over-sexualised Anne of the 2000s might empower women to embrace their sexuality, it can also distort the reality of Anne's life, reducing her to a mere symbol of sexual power rather than a full, multifaceted individual. Yet, in the midst of these portrayals, there are also moments of incredible depth, particularly in Natalie Dormer's portrayal, which manages to navigate the complexities of Anne’s sexuality, intelligence, and ambition, making her one of the most compelling and modern interpretations of the character.

Anne Boleyn’s legacy, both historical and cinematic, continues to evolve, and with each portrayal, we see a reflection of the evolving feminist ideals of the time. I for one, cannot wait see who we get next!

Primary Sources

• Anna Boleyn. Directed by Ernst Lubitsch, performances by Henny Porten, UFA, 1920.

• The Private Life of Henry VIII. Directed by Alexander Korda, performances by Merle Oberon and Charles Laughton, London Film Productions, 1933.

• Anne of the Thousand Days. Directed by Charles Jarrott, performances by Geneviève Bujold and Richard Burton, Universal Pictures, 1969.

• The Other Boleyn Girl. Directed by Philippa Lowthorpe, performances by Natascha McElhone and Jodhi May, BBC Films, 2003.

• The Other Boleyn Girl. Directed by Justin Chadwick, performances by Natalie Portman and Scarlett Johansson, Columbia Pictures, 2008.

• The Tudors. Created by Michael Hirst, performances by Natalie Dormer and Jonathan Rhys Meyers, Showtime, 2007–2010.

• Gregory, Philippa. The Other Boleyn Girl. HarperCollins, 2001.

Secondary Sources

• Bordo, Susan. The Creation of Anne Boleyn: A New Look at England’s Most Notorious Queen. Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2013.

• Loades, David. The Boleyns: The Rise and Fall of a Tudor Family. Amberley Publishing, 2011.

• Warnicke, Retha M. The Rise and Fall of Anne Boleyn: Family Politics at the Court of Henry VIII. Cambridge University Press, 1989.

• Walker, Greg. Writing Under Tyranny: English Literature and the Henrician Reformation. Oxford University Press, 2005.

• Fraser, Antonia. The Wives of Henry VIII. Vintage, 1992.

• Doran, Susan, and Thomas S. Freeman, editors. The Myth of Elizabeth. Palgrave Macmillan, 2003.

• Loomba, Ania. Gender, Race, Renaissance Drama. Manchester University Press, 1989.

• Kaplan, E. Ann. Women and Film: Both Sides of the Camera. Routledge, 1983.

• Tasker, Yvonne. Working Girls: Gender and Sexuality in Popular Cinema. Routledge, 1998.

• Mulvey, Laura. “Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema.” Screen, vol. 16, no. 3, 1975, pp. 6–18.

• Jones, Ann Rosalind. “Nets and Bridles: Early Modern Conduct Books and Sixteenth-Century Women’s Lyrics.” In The Ideology of Conduct, edited by Nancy Armstrong and Leonard Tennenhouse, Methuen, 1987.

• Daybell, James. Women and Politics in Early Modern England, 1450–1700. Routledge, 2004.

• Kroll, Richard W. F. “The Feminine Subject in Historical Drama.” Journal of Gender Studies, vol. 8, no. 1, 1999, pp. 27–37