Ain't No Drama Like a Period Drama

To get us all into the Christmas spirit, Film Forum is showing a new 4K restoration of one of my all-time favorite movies, The Lion in Winter (1968). I love period dramas. They allow us to be transported back to a time where there were no xylophone ringtones, Kardashians, or Cheeto-colored despots- I mean there were despots- they just weren't orange.

So here are my picks for Top 5 Period Dramas:




The Scarlet Empress (1934)

Marlene Dietrich and Josef von Sternberg were a team made in cinematic heaven. No one understood how to shoot and light Dietrich in as affecting a way as Sternberg, and no actress could match Dietrich's screen presence to bring Sternberg's black and white fever dreams to stunning life. Their sixth film outing was the story of Russia's Catherine the Great with Dietrich playing the czarina from a young maid (pincurls and a wide-eyed gaze weren't enough to convince anyone that Dietrich was sixteen) up until she took the reigns of power.

This film is less about history and more about Sternberg's visual design. The Russian palace is a mindbending treasure trove of icons and Goya-esque statuary. As Catherine roams the halls in finery that would make PETA see red, she at first seems like an innocent lost in a twisted world where male power distorts everything it touches. But soon Catherine learns how her sex gives her a unique tool to get what she wants and usurps the plots of her wackadoo husband, Peter (played with lurid insanity by Sam Jaffe).

With the help of the tight-pantsed Count Alexei (John Lodge before he became a Republican Congressman) and an army full of men that she has seduced, Catherine saves herself and Mother Russia all while riding a horse in full military regalia. It puts any picture of Putin on a horse to shame.

The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex (1939)

Bette Davis was considered the Queen of the Warner Brothers lot, so it makes sense that she was cast as an actual queen in Michael Curtiz's historical epic about England's Queen Elizabeth I.  Since classic Hollywood plotlines usually had to include a romance, the script focused on Elizabeth's dalliance with the Earl of Essex (Errol Flynn proving yet again that he was one of the most entertaining stars of the time). The romance as depicted ran hot and cold with the passions at both extremes playing right into Davis' wheelhouse. It also didn't hurt that Davis and Flynn didn't really get along, so scoldings and slaps have an extra bite to them.

Davis carries herself regally, thrusting her hips as she walks in the voluminous gowns that Orry-Kelly strapped her into. Press releases at the time gabbed that the costumes were so heavy that Davis was losing a couple pounds a day. Behind the period garb, the red wigs, and partially shaved head (Davis complained her eyebrows never grew back right) Davis gives a royal performance with her bouts of bravura counterbalanced by moments of loss and realized duty. With fine support from Flynn, Olivia de Havilland, and Donald Crisp, this Elizabeth is an excellent example of Hollywood studio filmmaking during its Golden Age. And while historians might pull their hair out watching it, it's a good film for those of us who prefer Hollywood Queens to British ones.

The Lion in Winter (1968)

As mentioned at the top, Lion in Winter is one of my favorite movies. Based on the James Goldman play, Lion details a Christmas late in the reign of Richard II (Peter O'Toole) when the royal family converges on a castle in Chinon to connive, buttkiss, and doublecross each other in the hopes of gaining the throne once dear Richard kicks the bucket. The dialogue is sly and vicious ("What shall we hang? The holly or each other?") and is lifted almost word-for-word from Goldman's play. But what really makes this movie special, is the performances.

Kate Hepburn's performance as Eleanor of Aquitaine is my favorite in a career full of extraordinary work. Hepburn by this time had become an older woman, and in her eyes we see the acceptance of fading beauty, the fierce desire to fight it, and memories of triumphs long gone. Her monologue in the mirror is heartbreaking- but inspiring- proving that as long as you can still put on your crown, you can rule the world. She would win her 3rd Oscar that year- splitting the honor with Barbra Streisand for her star-making turn in Funny Girl.

O'Toole is wonderful as a scamp king who intends to keep everyone guessing until he wins, and the supporting cast of Nigel Terry, John Castle, Anthony Hopkins, and Timothy Dalton are fantastic. John Barry's haunting period soundtrack uses horns, drums, and voices to evoke the faded glory of the past.

Lion was a product of a new era in filmmaking where realism was preferred over giant furs and double-wide dresses. The sets and costumes are much truer to the period- with dirt, wear and tear, and function over form the order of the day. The castle looks like it was ancient when Richard moved in, and the dogs and peasants run around like they own the place. It was a style that would inspire future historical dramas by placing the focus on story and performance over romanticized costumes and sets.

Amadeus (1984)

If we are to believe Milos Forman's Oscar-winning film about the life of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Mozart was an asshole. But since the story is told from the perspective of Mozart rival, Antonio Salieri, historians should take it for granted that this tale might be a bit skewed.

The film opens on Salieri (Oscar-winner F. Murray Abraham) a decrepit old man whose suicide attempt has landed him in an insane asylum where he gives a lengthy confession to a priest about his frenemy-ship with Mozart (Oscar-nominee Tom Hulce).

Salieri's flashback paints the young musical genius as a l'enfant terrible- a cackling bacchanalian whose taste for wine  and women is only outdone by his talent for writing song. As Salieri watches his career become overshadowed by this squealing vulgarity, he devises a plot to rid himself of this blight on proper music.

Amadeus is great fun to watch. Forman lavishly presents a classical music god in a less-than-flattering- human light while at the same time maintaining his admiration for the man's work.

This irreverent takedown of an idol was met with critical praise and earned 8 Oscar awards. Perhaps less known (and less appreciated) is its influence on my laugh- which I suspect was inspired by my watching of this film at an impressionable age.

Dangerous Liaisons (1988)

Maybe I just have a thing for period pieces, but I also adore this revenge tale about the sexual intrigues of the 18th Century 1%.  The Marquise de Merteuil (Glenn Close) and the Vicomte de Valmont (the sensationally slimy John Malkovich) are bored so they decide to make a bet on whether Valmont can seduce the wife of one of the Marquise's ex-lovers.

Gauntlet and undies are thrown down as Valmont endeavors to win the favor of the upstanding Madame de Tourvel (luminous Michelle Pfeiffer) at his aunt's country home. But affairs of the heart rarely go as planned- even in an intricate game played by masters of seduction.

Liaisons is a fantastic script with wonderful twists and delicious, venom-filled dialogue that almost burns through the celluloid. All the actors are superb (Uma Thurman, Swoosie Kurtz, and Mildred Natwick among them)- with the exception of Keanu Reeves who while quite fetching in wig and tights has problems transferring his Ted voice to a French music teacher.

But the real heart of this film is Glenn Close. Close often plays frosty dames whose interiors are masked by a brittle, smiling facade. But her Marquise is an exquisite human clockwork whose heart was long ago disposed of because it got in the way of her survival. Her downfall is portrayed with devastated shock, and her final moments of the film are heartbreaking. She lost the Oscar that year to Jodie Foster in The Accused- and I still think Close should have won.

I am headed home for some good old fashioned Werth Family holiday hijinx, so there will be no post next week.

But in the meantime, from me to you- Happy Holidays!