I've seen some folks remark that modern audiences are too obsessed with plot in cinema, and have forgotten how to just enjoy a movie for what it is. I can appreciate that sentiment insofar as it's applied to titles where storytelling is a secondary consideration (e.g. Summer blockbusters); elsewhere, if a drama or thriller succeeds at communicating its major ideas, but not so much the minutiae of its tale, the result may surely suffer. Then again, sometimes a broad mood is all that is truly necessary, and for the nitty gritty of a narrative to be deprioritized is not so terrible after all. I note this because I think 'Farewell, my queen' counts among those pictures that is better with regards to its overall vibes than it is in the specifics of the writing. This is hardly to malign the screenplay, or the book it's based on. Rather, it just seems to me that filmmaker Benoît Jacquot approached that screenplay as a guideline, a foundation for stirring up the energy that the feature carries, rather than concern himself with every word - abiding by the spirit and not the letter. There's nothing inherently wrong with this, and it's just one of any number of possible ways to make a movie and tell a story, but the distinction is noticeable in my opinion.
The disadvantage of that ethos is that the work that went into the writing is taken for granted as it is disregarded; the dialogue becomes relatively unimportant, and only the most substantial essence of the characterizations and scenes remain. On the other hand, Jacquot zeroes in on the ambience of the proceedings from one moment to the next, and this is the picture's greatest strength: the fear, uncertainty, anger, grief, nervous electricity swirling about Versailles is the nectar on which the cast feeds, and the prime directive informing the construction of the piece otherwise. Léa Seydoux and Diane Kruger's performances are fraught with dynamic, unsettled emotions, with Virginie Ledoyan but a half-step behind; if the same is any less true of the likes of Noémie Lvovsky, Michel Robin, Lolita Chammah, or others, it's only on account of the lesser prominence of their supporting parts. Meanwhile, Jacquot's orchestration of shots and scenes as director, Romain Winding's cinematography, and even the lighting lend considerably to the vivid disquiet of the unfolding saga. And of course 'Farewell, my queen' is well made in every other capacity, including outstanding filming locations and production design, beautiful costume design, and impeccable hair and makeup - all very much befitting the one-time splendor of the palace and French royalty.
Ironically, while the feature is focused more on the overarching feelings of its tableau than on the details that shape them, I think it may have ultimately been more successful - that is, more impactful - if we viewers were treated to the full extent of what the storytelling could have been. The partial loss of the gravity and import of the plot is further hampered by pacing that's a tad too brisk for its own good (perhaps in excess by only 5-10%, but it's enough to make a difference). In a like manner, I observe some instances of Jacquot's direction that are a smidgen too forceful, or moments when the cinematography is overzealous. In the latter case I think especially of a scene not long after the one-hour mark, an exchange between Marie-Antoinette and Gabrielle, during which the camera swings back and forth between them; in my mind it's an inappropriate and distracting level of activity that serves to undercut the significance of the scene. This is well done generally, but it's not perfect.
Still, maybe I, too, am getting hung up on the details; perhaps I'm being too harsh. Much more than not it's finely crafted, well written, and solidly engaging and satisfying. I admit critiques are purely subjective; if others have gotten more out of this than I have, then I'm glad for them. Even at that I had a good time watching 'Farewell, my queen,' and I think it earns a fair recommendation. Don't go out of your way for it, and it's suggested particularly for fans of those involved, but if you do have the chance to watch, it's a swell way to spend 100 minutes.
The disadvantage of that ethos is that the work that went into the writing is taken for granted as it is disregarded; the dialogue becomes relatively unimportant, and only the most substantial essence of the characterizations and scenes remain. On the other hand, Jacquot zeroes in on the ambience of the proceedings from one moment to the next, and this is the picture's greatest strength: the fear, uncertainty, anger, grief, nervous electricity swirling about Versailles is the nectar on which the cast feeds, and the prime directive informing the construction of the piece otherwise. Léa Seydoux and Diane Kruger's performances are fraught with dynamic, unsettled emotions, with Virginie Ledoyan but a half-step behind; if the same is any less true of the likes of Noémie Lvovsky, Michel Robin, Lolita Chammah, or others, it's only on account of the lesser prominence of their supporting parts. Meanwhile, Jacquot's orchestration of shots and scenes as director, Romain Winding's cinematography, and even the lighting lend considerably to the vivid disquiet of the unfolding saga. And of course 'Farewell, my queen' is well made in every other capacity, including outstanding filming locations and production design, beautiful costume design, and impeccable hair and makeup - all very much befitting the one-time splendor of the palace and French royalty.
Ironically, while the feature is focused more on the overarching feelings of its tableau than on the details that shape them, I think it may have ultimately been more successful - that is, more impactful - if we viewers were treated to the full extent of what the storytelling could have been. The partial loss of the gravity and import of the plot is further hampered by pacing that's a tad too brisk for its own good (perhaps in excess by only 5-10%, but it's enough to make a difference). In a like manner, I observe some instances of Jacquot's direction that are a smidgen too forceful, or moments when the cinematography is overzealous. In the latter case I think especially of a scene not long after the one-hour mark, an exchange between Marie-Antoinette and Gabrielle, during which the camera swings back and forth between them; in my mind it's an inappropriate and distracting level of activity that serves to undercut the significance of the scene. This is well done generally, but it's not perfect.
Still, maybe I, too, am getting hung up on the details; perhaps I'm being too harsh. Much more than not it's finely crafted, well written, and solidly engaging and satisfying. I admit critiques are purely subjective; if others have gotten more out of this than I have, then I'm glad for them. Even at that I had a good time watching 'Farewell, my queen,' and I think it earns a fair recommendation. Don't go out of your way for it, and it's suggested particularly for fans of those involved, but if you do have the chance to watch, it's a swell way to spend 100 minutes.