OSCARS 2022: Spencer (2021)

If you don’t remember the nineties, you might not know what a big deal Princess Diana of Wales was. For a time, she was genuinely one of the most famous people in the world. She was such a philanthropist, that the media dubbed her “The People’s Princess.” Of course, that kind of fame brought with it a crushing amount of scrutiny. The tabloid press’ obsession with every single thing she did was unending and would play a role in her death. As an American, I never quite understood the hype around Diana or any of the British royals. I guess the English-speaking world just couldn’t resist the allure of a princess who was also young and conventionally attractive. Nevertheless, Princess Diana’s short, glamorous, sad life has an unavoidably tragic appeal to it. I’m not surprised filmmakers would be drawn to it. Director Pablo Larrain, having previously put an art house spin on the life of Jacqueline Kennedy, gives a similar treatment to Princess Di in “Spencer.” The film has been critically acclaimed, if somewhat controversial, and has now earned “Twilight” star turned indie darling Kristen Stewart her first Oscar nomination. 

“Spencer” mixes together fact, fiction, and speculation. Set around Christmas Day of 1991, it has Princess Diana arriving at the Sandringham estate for Royal Family holiday dinner. Her marriage to Prince Charles is crumbling, following his highly publicized affair. Diana increasingly feels the pressure of being both part of the royal family and constantly in the public spotlight. She feels increasingly drawn to the abandoned mansion next door, her childhood home. She’s having hallucinations of Anne Boleyn. As her mental health crisis grows graver, she ponders on whether she can bring herself to walk away from being a literal princess. 

Considering Larrain turned a biopic about Jackie O. into a bracing examination of PTSD, it should come as no surprise that his take on the life of Princess Diana is equally unconventional. “Spencer,” in many ways, resembles a psychological horror movie. The film is determined to take us inside Diana’s anxious mindset. Johnny Greenwood’s discordant jazz score gives the entire film with an uneasy, nervous feeling. The foggy English countryside provides a certain gloomy ambiance. When the film includes cameos from the appearances of Anne Boleyn and a climatic visit to a crumbling, shadowy old mansion, it seems to have embraced its status as a story of unsettled minds and places. There’s even occasional indulgences of body horror. Such as during a vivid hallucination when Diana’s pearl necklace comes apart in her sickeningly green pea soup and she’s forced to swallow. Or when she cuts herself with a pair of wire clippers. 

“Spencer” utilizes some extraordinary filmmaking in pursuit of this goal. Larrain’s camera roams through the endless halls of Sandringham palace, the frequent movement similarly transporting us into Diana’s nervous head space. A brilliantly shot scene frames Diana and Charles at opposite ends of a pool table. The camera draws closer with each shot of them, visually setting them up not as equal partners in a marriage but as adversaries. The film is loaded with perhaps heavy handed visual symbolism. Diana repeatedly revisits a scarecrow by her first home, a figure from her childhood that looms over her still. That pearl necklace, a gift from the queen, regularly reminds us of a prisoner’s chain. There’s a swirling descent into her youthful memories at one point. Diana repeatedly draws parallels between herself and the pheasants hunted on the estate grounds, as a pretty living thing that is publicly sacrificed. Yet this is the heightened world “Spencer” takes place in — it’s not like the life of royalty has much realism to it anyway — and these touches only make the movie more compelling.

Even though they say that every little girl dreams of being a princess, “Spencer” convincingly makes the case that being royalty really sucks. Constantly being in the public eye has given Diana an eating disorder, as she vacillates between bingeing and purging. The royal family, including her own husband, greet her only with judgmental mental glares. She has no privacy on the estate grounds, rumors of her behavior circulating among the staff. She can’t control what she wears or even what she does in her bedroom. Police officers or a pompous royal butler, played by a suitably rat-like Timothy Spall, pry into every moment of escape she has. The curtains are eventually sewn shut, boxing her in even more. Her only friend, played by the ever graceful Sally Hawkins, is shipped away at one point. “Spencer” depicts Diana as completely trapped in a life she didn’t choose for herself. 

All throughout the film, Diana is constantly told to be more diligent in separating her public and private life. “Spencer” takes place long before Diana’s death but the frequent references to tabloid photographers, or a scene where she steps out of a church to be greeted by a wall of paparazzi flashbulbs, can’t help but remind you of it. It’s not that Diana needs to compartmentalize her personal and public feelings. It’s that her private world is being totally nullified by the pressures around her. The only time she seems free is when she’s with her sons. A quiet moment where they ask why their Christmases are so different from normal people’s Christmases speaks towards Diana’s own dissatisfaction with her life. As does a brilliant nighttime sequence where she plays a game with the boys, lit by candlelight with the actors improvising their genuinely off-the-cuff seeming dialogue. Eventually, “Spencer” does lean towards images of escape and freedom. Yet, like in any horror movie with an “Or Is It?” ending, the knowledge of Diana’s inevitable fate gives its ending an eerie feeling. 

At the center of the film's uneasy emotions is Kristen Stewart's performance. The very American Stewart might seem like odd casting for such a quintessentially British figure but she excels in parts of isolated, alienated women. Stewart’s skill for playing characters who are barely holding it together, despite their icy outer appearance, is put to good use here. It makes the rare moments of relief or escape all the more meaningful, when Stewart does such a good job of projecting the innate discomfort Diana feels in this story. For whatever it’s worth, the make-up team makes her a convincing facsimile of the famous woman. And she nails the accent too. 

Ultimately, I’m kind of surprised that “Spencer” managed to earn any Oscar nominations at all. Not because the movie isn’t excellent – it is – but because movies like this are beloved more by Letterboxd users than Academy voters. I figured something like this would prove too artsy or chilly for people used to more traditional biopics. I guess the narrative of Stewart earning critical praise after years as a punchline was too much to resist. Whether or not “Spencer” wins in the sole category it’s nominated in is besides the point. It’s a beautifully constructed and deeply felt motion picture. [9/10]