The Favourite has Barry Lyndon written all over it

Asking somebody to pick their favourite Kubrick film is like asking a parent to name their favourite child. The Kubrickian genetic code means you possess a strong affection for all of them but – let’s be honest – there are some films that give you more satisfaction than others. Barry Lyndon (1975) is the neglected child. The one most fans shove aside. In the playground line-up, Barry Lyndon is the thin, bespectacled kid who is only ever chosen when everyone else has already been picked.

Yet, Barry Lyndon‘s legacy is momentous, and not limited to its technical wizardry. Stanley Kubrick’s 1975 film is an epic story, a profound character study and a razor-sharp satire of the British aristocracy. It has influenced many period dramas since. For example, the ornate, Carnivalesque atmosphere of Amadeus (Milos Forman, 1985; pictured below) echoes Barry Lyndon. Katherine (Florence Pugh) of Lady Macbeth (William Oldroyd, 2017) has a predicament very similar to Barry’s, of a social climber entering the aristocracy. Sense and Sensibility (Ang Lee, 1995) shares costume and locations that consistently remind me of the beautiful tableaux of the 1975 film. Martin Scorsese and David Chase (writer of television series The Sopranos) both single it out as a major inspiration.

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Lanthimos’s favourites

Yorgos Lanthimos, Greek auteur and figurehead of the weird wave of Greek cinema, has made a welcome addition to the list. The Favourite (which is out in cinemas right now) portrays a triadic power struggle in 18th Century England between Queen Anne (Olivia Colman) and sycophantic Abigail and Sarah (Emma Stone and Rachel Weisz, respectively). And it has Barry Lyndon written all over it, at least in my opinion. Even if Lanthimos doesn’t recognise it.

In a short YouTube video, the Greek director talks about some of the films that inspired The Favourite. They include Peter Greenway’s The Draughtman’s Contract (1982), Ingmar Bergman’s Cries and Whispers (1972) and the aforementioned Amadeus. Lanthimos’s omission of Barry Lyndon is blatant and conspicuous. For starters, both films take place in 18th century Britain. But that’s just the tip of the iceberg of similarities. Perhaps Lanthimos wanted to avoid the comparisons because the similarities are so glaring, and he could be branded unoriginal.

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Fish-eyes wide open

The boldest visual choice in The Favourite is Lanthimos’s liberal use of the fish-eye lens. The film is dotted with warped shots, giving the it a feeling of deformity and eccentricity. One such example is pictured above: Robert Harley (Nicholas Hoult) tries to convince Sarah to grant him an audience with the Queen. The whole sequence has a humorous quality – including a duck in the middle of the table – that counters the sly political manoeuvring.

Barry Lyndon uses similar tricks. The best example is in a fist fight between Barry and a soldier. The camera rests above Barry’s shoulder but remains wide enough to make his opponent look at once imposing and ridiculous. This happens again during Lady Lyndon’s suicide attempt. Her grief-stricken convulsions are disturbing yet there is pitch-black humour to be found in her failing to take enough poison. We watch her flail about frantically, like a fish out of water. When Barry’s father is killed in a duel, the death is so distant that it’s almost insignificant. Kubrick starts small, and zooms out until the subject becomes a little detail on the silver screen (pictured below).

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Period laughs

Both The Favourite and Barry Lyndon are brimming with comedic elements, with ample opportunities to mock aristocratic rituals and sense of grandeur. In Barry Lyndon, John Quin makes faces to the camera as he marches. In The Favourite, Abigail (Stone) dances with her soon-to-be lover (pictured above). Both sequences are so absurd they border on parody.

Kubrick often mocks the perceived sense of superiority of the British aristocracy by placing people in the background, standing gallantly despite being completely redundant to the action. Lanthimos peppers his film with bizarre events such as duck racing and oranges being thrown at a naked, obese man. Both directors seek to criticise the aristocracy by parodying their inflated sense of self-righteousness. And both are equally successful.

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No mountain high enough

Perhaps more significantly, both films portray “common opportunists” who use their charms and wit in order to climb to the top of the aristocracy.

In Kubrik’s film, Barry is the sole social climber. He successfully climbs to the top of the aristocracy in the first half of the film, only to crash in the second part. In The Favourite, two characters split the social climbing functions. Abigail is equivalent to Barry during his rise, while Sarah is tantamount to Barry during his fall.

Both Barry and Abigail (pictured above) are underdogs in the beginning of the movies. Both of their fathers perished in a freak incident and both of them have our sympathy. Both have a large potential to cause harm and gradually lose our allegiance as they climb up the social ladder. Sarah’s eventual demise mirrors Barry. And they both meet a hapless ending.

Despite the Kubrickian influences, The Favourite remains a very original film. It adds new twists and flavours to many of the techniques Kubrick created, and the outcome is something entirely novel.

The Favourite

The maverick Greek director of Dogtooth (2009) makes his third English language film and his first period costume drama. The Favourite is loosely based on early 18th century historical record. Queen Anne, the last of the Stuarts who was beset by health issues, had some 17 pregnancies including many miscarriages and no heir surviving beyond the age of 11.

Her smart and shrewd childhood companion and friend Lady Sarah Churchill did much of Anne’s thinking for her, pushing her to support the merchant class political party the Whigs rather than the landed gentry party the Tories. The Whigs demanded support for a war against the French, while the Tories were resistant to the heavily increased taxes which funded the war effort at their expense. The relationship of Lady Sarah to the Queen was undermined by the arrival of maidservant Abigail Hill, a ruthless member of the gentry whose family had fallen on hard times and who was determined to fight her way back up the social ladder at any cost.

If that outline is true to the facts, the screenplay fashioned upon their foundation by Lanthimos and screenwriter Tony McNamara seek to explore less the historic detail of what actually happened and more the power dynamics of the three women involved. Olivia Colman is magnificent as the shy and vulnerable Anne who nevertheless wields absolute power as monarch. Rachel Weisz makes a fearsome Lady Sarah, whether the powerful manipulator seen at the start or the hideously disfigured victim of a riding accident she becomes towards the end as events turn against her. Emma Stone as the social climber Abigail however seems to be playing the same empowered woman character she always plays.

There’s a strong if historically contentious sexual element, with Lady Sarah the Queen’s clandestine lover until Abigail, who initially ingratiates herself with both Anne and Sarah by using a herbal paste to relieve burning sensations in the bedridden Anne’s legs, replaces Sarah in Anne’s affections. Further intrigues involve the English two party Parliament in the story’s background. Foppish opposition Tory leader Robert Harley (Nicholas Hoult, the memorable psychotic from George Miller’s 2015 Mad Max: Fury Road almost unrecognisable under a lengthy, light coloured wig) senses Abigail working her way into the Queen’s favour and wants to recruit her to spy on Lady Sarah and Anne. Although a fringe character, he is more pivotal to the action than his rival the government’s Whig PM Lord Godolphin (James Smith) who the Queen, under Sarah’s influence, supports.

Apart from Stone’s arrival where she’s literally pushed out of the carriage into the shit on the ground, her excursions into the forest to collect ingredients for a herbal paste to ease a painful condition on her arm and scenes of Lady Sarah outside shooting and riding, the proceedings play out within the confines of Anne’s vast palace – kitchens staffed with cooks and maids, lengthy corridors with footmen, the Queen’s vast bedchamber which is also a well-stocked library.

Cinematographer Robbie Ryan frequently shoots from bravura angles although his slavish use of Kubrickian reverse tracking shots is less than original and while the overall look and feel of the piece echoes Barry Lyndon (Stanley Kubrick, 1975), it lacks that film’s rigorous discipline and doesn’t similarly immerse the viewer in its eighteenth century world.

Lanthimos still hasn’t bettered his earlier, homegrown Greek films like Kinetta (2005) and Dogtooth (2009) both of which not only present strange and unfamiliar worlds to the viewer but also completely immerse him/her in them. Those promised a maverick artist on a par with the likes of Lynch and Cronenberg, on which promise his bigger budget, English language movies (The Lobster, 2015, The Killing Of A Sacred Deer, 2017) haven’t to date delivered. As with those films, while there’s much to admire in The Favourite, it still fails to achieve those qualities of Lanthimos’ early films that marked him out as destined for greatness.

The Favourite is out in the UK from Saturday, December 29th. Watch the film trailer below: