I never much care for dead plants

Continuing my trip up The Guardian's top 50 films of 2022

#32 : Corsage

Vicky Krieps puts in a star turn as lonely, patronised Elizabeth of Austria in Marie Kreutzer’s austere drama that functions as a cry of anger from the pedestal-prison of an empress.

I'd heard of this film because I saw in on several year-end lists - but before then I had no clue it existed and I have absolutely no idea what to expect from it!

So, Elisabeth, Empress of Austria and Queen of Hungary (portrayed by Vicky Krieps) is a woman who has everything and can in theory do anything - but she has trouble deciding what to do and when she does, there is always someone there to disapprove or just flat out say "No!".  She's very much a woman in a gilded cage and however she tries to escape it (including, at one point, jumping out of a window) she is thwarted.

A lot of this is down to her husband, Franz-Joseph (Florian Teichtmeister) who is, I think we can safely say, at times, an utter shit.  There's an argument that a lot of this is down to the pressure of the responsibilities of his position - but I suspect a lot of it was also down to him just being an utter shit.

However, let's not pretend that Elisabeth is entirely blameless in the matter - she doesn't come across as a bad person but she puts her husband, children and attendants through all sorts of merry hell.  And that's basically what the film is - people mostly making each other miserable as we follow her through a year of her life.  I'd struggle to say it has a plot, but things definitely happen and they're generally quite interesting (or at least intriguing) things.  And to be honest, that's probably all you need to know really.

It's quite an arty film, with some quite nice quirky touches.  At one point, Elizabeth is riding her horse round a yard accompanied by some fine piano music - and the camera pans out to reveal the piano sat there in the corner with an attendant playing it.  Other strange things that happen are her cousin pouring a full jug of chocolate sauce over her face and at another time they're dancing to a lute playing what sounds like a traditional folk tune, but when he starts singing you realise it's a Kris Kristofferson track (and we also get a Marianne Faithful track on a harp at one point, but I had to look that one up).  It also skips around languages - it's mostly in German, but I also recognised smatterings of French and English and Wikipedia tells me there's some Hungarian in there as well.

This may be your average Euro-arthouse film but it doesn't feel like it has the usual budget with there being a lot of extras and loads of outfits used here - and they're proper dressing-up clobber as well.  There are also a lot of expensive looking locations - the Empress obviously didn't hang around in small houses and some of the external shots take place outside a VERY official looking palace.  It's also interesting that quite a few of the manor houses used have absolutely no decoration - I assume this is historically authentic, but it looks very odd. 

The Guardian describes Vicky Krieps as putting in a star turn and she really does - you're given the impression that Elisabeth had mental health issues were present and whilst I wouldn't even attempt a diagnosis, she is certainly portrayed with a wide range of emotions.  She also wears some absolutely wince-inducing corsets  - there was definitely some suffering for her art going on there.  And I knew I recognised her name from somewhere, but had completely forgotten I'd seen her in this - which also involved a lot of ridiculous clothes.

The obvious place to go next is Florian Teichtmeister who is the only other major character but, for reasons which we'll cover later, we don't talk about Florian any more.   I am going to talk out Katharina Lorenz (Marie), Jeanne Werner (Ida) and Alma Hasun (Fanny) who are Elisabeth's attendants and they all do a good job of conveying their unhappiness with but acceptance of their lives (and Marie in particular draws several short straws).  The only other actors I'm going to call out are Elisabeth's children - Aaron Friesz (Rudolf) and Rosa Hajjaj (Valerie) both of whom tolerate her whims to varying amounts.

So, why can't we talk about Florian?  Well, let's just say the film didn't have a lot of luck with its cast - it's a long and complex tale which is best read about on Wikipedia, but there were rumours swirling around at the time of the premiere about sexual assault.  And then the news came out that Florian was going to stand trial for possession of child pornography - oh dearAnd then the person who started the rumours went "well, this is awkward - I wasn't talking about him" - oh dear again.  Details are sketchy about the second case because accusations have been met with denials, but basically the film has been removed from distribution - as Vicky put it "So, a feminist film made by two women should be discarded because of the misconduct of a male colleague? Who exactly is being harmed by this?".

Back to the film it's very well shot - quite sparse in places but beautifully luxuriant in others, so praise is very much due to Marie Kreutzer who both wrote and directed here.  It also has quite the ending - it's both beautiful and shocking.  I checked up on Wikipedia whether it had actually happened and wasn't in the slightest bit surprised to find out that it was a complete fabrication.  When Marie was asked how much of the film was true she said that she "could not tell in percent because she could not even remember exactly, but that some parts were made up".  Very useful, Marie - thanks!  The other amusing quote from her was when she asked if she was inspired by Sofia Coppola's Marie Antoinette (which uses similar anachronisms) she said that she "does not like Coppola's film and does not want people to think of it".  I get the impression she's not someone to mess with.

Reading up on Elisabeth's entry, she learn had quite the life - she married Franz-Joseph at 16 (although his mother had planned for him to marry Elisabeth's sister), had four children (the first three of whom were taken off her and raised by her mother-in-law), had extremely long hair which took three hours a day to manage (and was washed once a fortnight in eggs and cognac, which took all day!), she wore corsets which reduced her waist size to 16 (SIXTEEN) inches and her only son died in a murder-suicide with his mistress.  

She was Empress for 44 years (a lot of which was spent travelling around Europe rather than doing any actual empressing) and on one such trip to Geneva, she was assassinated by Luigi Lucheni, a 25 year old Italian anarchist who had hoped to kill the Duke of Orléans, but he'd left town early so he settled for next aristocrat he came across and stabbed her in the heart with a sharpened needle.  What a charmer, eh?!?  Luigi was caught and found guilty pretty quickly but was FURIOUS to discover that Geneva had abolished the death penalty and he was merely given life imprisonment as a common criminal.  All in all, she had a fascinating life and the film gives you little clue about any of it (although, to be fair, it doesn't intend to).  I was also wondering why the film was called Corsage - I only knew it referred to a flower arrangement, but it also refers to corsetry, which makes a lot more sense.  You're learning a lot in this write-up, aren't you?

But - did I actually like it?  Yes, I think I did - and that's mostly down to Vicky giving a great performance.  The film itself is a bit odd, but mostly intriguingly odd and it certainly looks gorgeous and you don't get the impression it was done on the cheap.  And, at the time of writing (despite Wikipedia telling me it's been removed from distribution) it's available to stream on Amazon Prime and MUBI or to rent in all the usual other locations - you'd have to be in the mood for it, but there have been far worse films on the list so far.

#33 - A gorgeous film in which very little happens
#31 - A load of old bollocks

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I saw your mum - she forgot that I existed

She's got a wicked way of acting like St. Anthony

Croopied in the reames, shepherd gurrel weaves