Mary Queen of Scots and why we need a national film industry

Mary, Queen of Scots is a film about, arguably, the most famous Scotswoman in history and her relationship with Queen Elizabeth I of England, arguably, the most famous Englishwoman in history. Mary is played by an Irish woman, Elizabeth by an Australian, the film is written by an American, directed by an English woman, and financed by a London-based company.

Let’s be clear; this is not some nationalist rant about only Scots being allowed to tell Scottish stories – that would be ludicrous. But this is a foundation story in Scottish history, yet its motives are pulled this way and that to fulfil the separate ideologies and agendas of those who are involved. The result is a film that speaks with so many voices it has no voice of its own.

There is no Scottish agency in this portrayal of one of the key figures in our history and that, alone, is surely a reason for having our own film industry. If all we want is to be content to act as a backdrop for other people’s action films, and lure tourists here because we look like a cartoon, as they did for Brave (2012), then fair enough. But what is a national film industry for if not to tell us and the world stories about who we are, how we got here, and where we go next? The story of Mary Stuart plays an important part in our concepts of our nationhood and our relationships with our neighbours, domestically and internationally. There is a fundamental lack of that sort of understanding in this film.

I get that this film provided a lot of employment for a lot of people – there are cast, crew, drivers, prop buyers, caterers and all sorts of vital trades who earned a much-needed wage from this. But it is transitory; the dogs bark and the caravan moves on as an old Arab proverb, recently quoted in Govan, would have it. The profits from the film – and there should be some given the relatively modest cost – will be repatriated to places other than here. It’s impact on the local industry is a passing fancy. It is impermanent.

Like so many other historical films these days Mary, Queen of Scots concentrates on the costumes and hairstyles at the expense of the story. There is no getting away from the fact that this is a triumph of production design but although it looks good there is not a lot to it.

The film begins with Mary (Saoirse Ronan, above far right), widowed Queen of France, returning to Scotland at the age of 19. Rather than stay in France and remarry she has come to Scotland – a country where she has spent very little time at all – to press her claim to the throne of England and Scotland, currently held by Elizabeth I (Margot Robbie, above right).

The notion of these two incredibly powerful women trying to chart their own path while respective courts of men try to manipulate them should be compelling. That it isn’t, I think, is down to the script’s failure to characterise their relationship in any depth. Screenwriter Beau Willimon (House of Cards) is happy to have Mary portrayed as a Joan of Arc type liberator with a diverse and empowered retinue, while Elizabeth is portrayed as a white-faced pantomime grotesque at odds with everyone. This does both women a disservice; their relationship was much more complex and given the volumes of correspondence between them it should not have been difficult to come up with a more nuanced view.

But this is a film of broad strokes. Almost all the men are plotting to their own ends, only her protector Bothwell (Martin Compston) appears to be on Mary’s side, initially at least. Even her husband, Darnley (Jack Lowden), is ultimately not to be trusted. And stirring the pot against her most of all is John Knox (David Tennant). Incidentally, I’m not that well up on Knox, but the ranting roaring Rasputin we have here seems a bit wide of the mark.

In the end what there is to enjoy from this film comes from the performances of the two principals. Ronan and Robbie find enough here to bring some life to their characters, even if Robbie is more plot device than credible character at times.

The key scene is the meeting between the two. It never happened but most films about Mary and Elizabeth manufacture a meeting, so it has become a Tudor trope. One of the weaknesses of Josie Rourke’s direction is her theatrical background; much of the film seems stagey but the theatricality of the meeting provides both actors with the intimacy to give us some sense of who they might have been.

In the end, as the children’s rhyme and Liz Lochhead tell us, Mary Queen of Scots got her head chopped off. The execution bookends the film and gives Ronan a striking entrance and a poignant exit; what more can an actor want.

The tragedy is that the last half of Mary’s life was much more interesting than this soap opera treatment of ‘the life and loves of Mary Stuart’. Telling that story however would require a level of understanding that seems to be beyond this film leaving us to settle for cultural appropriation on a grand and generic scale