Spencer

Spencer ★★★★½

An unravelling— dizzying, chaotic, arduous, with an authentic tension tightening the air as an excellently sickly portrayal of the British royals haunt hawklike within a panopticon of a palace. Ripped, bleeding, agitated, it's a scar that keeps getting cut deeper, again, and again, all by different people, for different reasons, at different times— even yourself— endless. It's terrifying— claustrophobic— a pheasant not knowing the boundaries of the cage, no matter what that cage may look like. Yet, amid everything, there's something gorgeous. There's this light, in the distance, unobtainable. Collapsing, frantically, clawing at an escape, all beneath an uneasy overbearing. Sometimes the best route forward is to break. And then you realize what nightmare you're amid— as the opening declares, a tragedy.

With a jewel of a candlelit scene (that I believe was improvised) between Diana and her two boys, Spencer is a highlight of the year, and one of the best biopics I've ever seen. Kristen Stewart proves herself a powerhouse, and Greenwood continues to cement himself as the best film score composer working today. A portrait, heartbreaking.

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