<p>The tragedy of Diana Spencer's mistreatment and alienation by the British royal family has been reproduced in popular culture many a time, but never before like in Pablo Larraín's slice-of-life psychological horror drama, <em>Spencer </em>(2021).</p>.<p>Larrain, who garnered similar critical acclaim for his portrayal of former US first lady Jackie Kennedy's life in the aftermath of her husband's assassination in the 2016 film, <em>Jackie</em>, is known for his unconventional, immersive approach to biopics. "People's Princess" Diana Spencer was one of the first public figures sensationalised by the British media beyond all ethical boundaries and is remembered as "the most hunted person of the modern age". Of course, the moral spectrum of public voyeurism has eventually disintegrated over time, with multiple celebrities being driven to near insanity by the modern paparazzi's penchant for catering to the consumer culture. Many celebrities in present-day show business have embraced the newer order of things and have taken to selectively dishing out information for financial gains. </p>.<p>It is precisely this dystopian concept of letting the public image take over the personal life that has been successfully explored in Pablo Larrain's <em>Spencer</em>. The dynamics of Diana's relationships with Prince Charles and other royal family members have been explored minimally; rather, the psychological impacts of having to live by a set of hard-set rules created by external institutions have been presented to us through neo-Gothic elements. Reminiscent of 20th century Gothic fiction, the settings for the scenes are dark, misty and cold. Diana's younger son runs down the steps of the house complaining about being cold. "Instead of turning up the heaters, they've dressed you up like Winston Churchill," she replies, an uncontrollable disdain colouring her face. Diana continues to sporadically express her disgust and discomfort towards the family for not being allowed to turn up the heaters. </p>.<p>Of course, this frustration stems from a deep-seated disgust towards the entire system of things, from being constantly hounded by dutiful servants to being assigned predetermined outfits for every family gathering through the three days of Christmas "celebrations", the constant pressure to show up on time, and reprimands by chillingly impersonal family members. Add to that the relentless pursuit by the media, and we find Princess Diana spiralling into madness and paranoia. "Yes, I'm a magnet for madness. Other people's madness," she says to Major Alistair Gregory (Timothy Spall) when he tells her he has been drafted to the castle for the holidays to fend off unwarranted media attention. The most unnerving element of horror is, of course, Diana's obsession with Anne Boleyn, the second of Henry VIII's six wives. She was accused of treason and beheaded. Bringing to fore the stark reality of being a woman married into the British monarchy with its unrelenting patriarchal values, Anne Boleyn appears before Diana in her dreams and hallucinations. We understand the exact dynamics of Diana and Charles' relationship through only two conversations - one where Charles explains to Diana that there are two versions of every member of the family - the real person and the public image. The two fail to really speak to each other - it's more hurling of criticisms from one person stuck in an arrangement to the other than marital discord. In another instance, Charles tells Diana to not "regurgitate" the food carefully produced and procured to be brought to their table into a lavatory bowl, a piece of advice detached from any genuine concern and expressing abject scorn. It sounds more like a reprimand.</p>.<p>Diana tells her children the present is the same as the past in the royal establishment and that "there is no future." We feel the loss of identity the princess experiences that drive her to break into her old house and relive the elements of her childhood that made her Diana Spencer. There are hints of Gothic horror in the misty, moonlit grounds through which a Princess Diana in her white gown and her Wellington boots escapes the Sandringham Estate and cuts wires to enter her childhood home. The boarded-up house is an eerie image, reminiscent of Victorian properties with an abandoned piano, dilapidated toys strewn across Diana's bedroom and a bed stripped of its vibrant identity. The dream-like state in which the heroine relives and mourns for her lost childhood identity recalls Daphne du Maurier. She then tries to kill herself, stopped short by the ghost of Anne Boleyn advising her to run before it's too late.</p>.<p>Diana complains to her only confidante, her tailor, Maggie (Sally Hawkins), that the "dead skin" of everyone who lived in the Sandringham House is still contained in its dust, drawing the opposition between Diana's "middle-class", "unfashionable", fast-food-loving modern mindset, and the "no one is beyond tradition" outlook of the Windsors who consider not being able to shoot down pheasants a sign of weakness in their children. And then the drama culminates into a climax on Boxing Day - Diana Spencer takes her "place among the pheasants", stands before a hunting party and challenges them to shoot her. This ultimate act of irrationality sets Diana free from the pretence that incapacitates her throughout the film.</p>.<p>Kristen Stewart is, throughout the film, Diana Spencer. Besides the striking resemblance in body language and appearance, her expressions are those of a princess on the verge of mental breakdown, trying to reclaim her identity. There is no instance in the movie where we can separate the actor from the character, and the portrayal is truly remarkable.</p>.<p><em>Spencer </em>successfully puts together an atmosphere of psychological horror by its graphic portrayal of mental illness - not just the constant pressure to keep up appearances in the throes of bulimia but the general discomfort towards life. The claustrophobia of inhabiting a space with which you have no connection, the morbidity of being constantly watched and spoken about, and the crippling anxiety of having to spend a holiday with people you don't share any intimacy with, have been depicted successfully in Larrain's masterwork. It's as if we have finally gotten to the bottom of the heart-wrenching human condition of Diana Spencer - the problems that set her apart from an establishment that continues to consider maintaining appearances its sole mission. Radiohead's Johnny Greenwood's scores tie the neo-Gothic elements of <em>Spencer </em>together, making it a powerful revival of the genre.</p>.<p><em>(The writer is a postgraduate student at the Department of English, Jadavpur University)</em></p>.<p><strong>Disclaimer: The views expressed above are the author's own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH.</strong></p>.<p><strong>Watch the latest DH videos:</strong></p>
<p>The tragedy of Diana Spencer's mistreatment and alienation by the British royal family has been reproduced in popular culture many a time, but never before like in Pablo Larraín's slice-of-life psychological horror drama, <em>Spencer </em>(2021).</p>.<p>Larrain, who garnered similar critical acclaim for his portrayal of former US first lady Jackie Kennedy's life in the aftermath of her husband's assassination in the 2016 film, <em>Jackie</em>, is known for his unconventional, immersive approach to biopics. "People's Princess" Diana Spencer was one of the first public figures sensationalised by the British media beyond all ethical boundaries and is remembered as "the most hunted person of the modern age". Of course, the moral spectrum of public voyeurism has eventually disintegrated over time, with multiple celebrities being driven to near insanity by the modern paparazzi's penchant for catering to the consumer culture. Many celebrities in present-day show business have embraced the newer order of things and have taken to selectively dishing out information for financial gains. </p>.<p>It is precisely this dystopian concept of letting the public image take over the personal life that has been successfully explored in Pablo Larrain's <em>Spencer</em>. The dynamics of Diana's relationships with Prince Charles and other royal family members have been explored minimally; rather, the psychological impacts of having to live by a set of hard-set rules created by external institutions have been presented to us through neo-Gothic elements. Reminiscent of 20th century Gothic fiction, the settings for the scenes are dark, misty and cold. Diana's younger son runs down the steps of the house complaining about being cold. "Instead of turning up the heaters, they've dressed you up like Winston Churchill," she replies, an uncontrollable disdain colouring her face. Diana continues to sporadically express her disgust and discomfort towards the family for not being allowed to turn up the heaters. </p>.<p>Of course, this frustration stems from a deep-seated disgust towards the entire system of things, from being constantly hounded by dutiful servants to being assigned predetermined outfits for every family gathering through the three days of Christmas "celebrations", the constant pressure to show up on time, and reprimands by chillingly impersonal family members. Add to that the relentless pursuit by the media, and we find Princess Diana spiralling into madness and paranoia. "Yes, I'm a magnet for madness. Other people's madness," she says to Major Alistair Gregory (Timothy Spall) when he tells her he has been drafted to the castle for the holidays to fend off unwarranted media attention. The most unnerving element of horror is, of course, Diana's obsession with Anne Boleyn, the second of Henry VIII's six wives. She was accused of treason and beheaded. Bringing to fore the stark reality of being a woman married into the British monarchy with its unrelenting patriarchal values, Anne Boleyn appears before Diana in her dreams and hallucinations. We understand the exact dynamics of Diana and Charles' relationship through only two conversations - one where Charles explains to Diana that there are two versions of every member of the family - the real person and the public image. The two fail to really speak to each other - it's more hurling of criticisms from one person stuck in an arrangement to the other than marital discord. In another instance, Charles tells Diana to not "regurgitate" the food carefully produced and procured to be brought to their table into a lavatory bowl, a piece of advice detached from any genuine concern and expressing abject scorn. It sounds more like a reprimand.</p>.<p>Diana tells her children the present is the same as the past in the royal establishment and that "there is no future." We feel the loss of identity the princess experiences that drive her to break into her old house and relive the elements of her childhood that made her Diana Spencer. There are hints of Gothic horror in the misty, moonlit grounds through which a Princess Diana in her white gown and her Wellington boots escapes the Sandringham Estate and cuts wires to enter her childhood home. The boarded-up house is an eerie image, reminiscent of Victorian properties with an abandoned piano, dilapidated toys strewn across Diana's bedroom and a bed stripped of its vibrant identity. The dream-like state in which the heroine relives and mourns for her lost childhood identity recalls Daphne du Maurier. She then tries to kill herself, stopped short by the ghost of Anne Boleyn advising her to run before it's too late.</p>.<p>Diana complains to her only confidante, her tailor, Maggie (Sally Hawkins), that the "dead skin" of everyone who lived in the Sandringham House is still contained in its dust, drawing the opposition between Diana's "middle-class", "unfashionable", fast-food-loving modern mindset, and the "no one is beyond tradition" outlook of the Windsors who consider not being able to shoot down pheasants a sign of weakness in their children. And then the drama culminates into a climax on Boxing Day - Diana Spencer takes her "place among the pheasants", stands before a hunting party and challenges them to shoot her. This ultimate act of irrationality sets Diana free from the pretence that incapacitates her throughout the film.</p>.<p>Kristen Stewart is, throughout the film, Diana Spencer. Besides the striking resemblance in body language and appearance, her expressions are those of a princess on the verge of mental breakdown, trying to reclaim her identity. There is no instance in the movie where we can separate the actor from the character, and the portrayal is truly remarkable.</p>.<p><em>Spencer </em>successfully puts together an atmosphere of psychological horror by its graphic portrayal of mental illness - not just the constant pressure to keep up appearances in the throes of bulimia but the general discomfort towards life. The claustrophobia of inhabiting a space with which you have no connection, the morbidity of being constantly watched and spoken about, and the crippling anxiety of having to spend a holiday with people you don't share any intimacy with, have been depicted successfully in Larrain's masterwork. It's as if we have finally gotten to the bottom of the heart-wrenching human condition of Diana Spencer - the problems that set her apart from an establishment that continues to consider maintaining appearances its sole mission. Radiohead's Johnny Greenwood's scores tie the neo-Gothic elements of <em>Spencer </em>together, making it a powerful revival of the genre.</p>.<p><em>(The writer is a postgraduate student at the Department of English, Jadavpur University)</em></p>.<p><strong>Disclaimer: The views expressed above are the author's own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH.</strong></p>.<p><strong>Watch the latest DH videos:</strong></p>