Showing posts with label romantic thrillers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label romantic thrillers. Show all posts

Sunday, August 11, 2019

Our August Sunday Corner with Lee Liberman: David Leveaux's THE EXCEPTION


Q: Can an officer have a loyalty greater 
to anything other than his country?

A: First he must ask the questions...
What is my country? 
And does it even still exist?

The 2016 film, THE EXCEPTION, streaming now on Netflix, is a World War II drawing-room melodrama with dashes of thriller thrown in that offers another small story told at a distance from the war theater and its central tragedy.

The film gives voice to the consternation, in fact grief, of some Germans as they glimpsed their upright, organized culture devolving into a torture machine (and timed with our own fears about democracy).

This is a first film-outing for David Leveaux, admired and loved for his theater direction in England and on Broadway, here using a screenplay by Simon Burke based on Alan Judd’s 2003 novel, The Kaiser’s Last Kiss.

Kaiser Wilhelm II (Christopher Plummer) and his second wife, Hermine (Janet McTeer), above, are exiles living on a Dutch estate near Utrecht early in the war mid-1940. There he rails at those who cried for war all those years ago, ignoring his orders, bringing on World War I. Now he spends his days taking daily briefings from his loyal aide, Col. Ilsemann (Ben Daniels), chopping wood (an obsession), and feeding the ducks, who do not blame him for losing the first world war or his throne. 

Brandt, a German captain with a stomach full of shrapnel, has been recalled from the battlefield in Poland under suspicious circumstances (he should have been court-martialed if not shot). He gets off easy with new orders to Utrecht to head the Kaiser’s personal bodyguard (below).

Brandt is hunky Australian Jai Courtney (Divergent, Suicide Squad), very convincing, showing us through his eyes and his nightmares that he follows orders but takes exception to murderous excess. Here he meets Dutch maid, Mieke (Lily James of Downton Abbey), providing the ingredients for a sexy, dangerous coupling.

If the pair are the heart of this story, the elders are its soul. Wilhelm and Hermine are so well-written and played, they hold their own against the furtive lovers. (Plummer is now nearly ninety and grand; McTeer, always working, much awarded yet shunning celebrity, is priceless and perfect in her constant conniving over Wilhelm’s well-being and late career.)

Brandt (the moving force here) and the local Utrecht gestapo are tasked with uncovering an English spy in the area. (Wilhelm is sly: “We must alert the ducks”.) After a visit to Mieke’s room, Brandt finds gun oil on a cigarette pack he had dropped on her table (nearly everybody in WWII chain smokes). Presently the household is in a tizzy preparing for the visit of Heinrich Himmler; the estate must be searched top to bottom. Brandt stakes out Mieke’s room but finds nothing there to do with gun oil.

At dinner, Himmler (Eddie Marsan, below), who has come to ask Wilhelm to return to Berlin as figure head, chats about ongoing research in Potsdam to industrialize murder —the present killing of 10 persons per minute by injecting carbolic acid is inefficient. Some at table turn pale at this talk.

There are twists and turns with the spy thing, two offers to the Kaiser (one delivered by Himmler, the second messaged from Winston Churchill), a bumbling chase with Nazis yelling and 1940-era cars barreling to and fro, and hopeful prospects for the lovers who must part. But despite theatrics that are more silly than thrilling, the drawing room and backstairs doings elevate the reward to Downton Abbey-level satisfaction (which is to say very entertaining but not Wolf Hall or Gosford Park).

The romance offers a rare, perfectly erotic few moments and a screaming fight (he: you used me; she: I used myself), making you want this pair to end up together; and Wilhelm and Hermine conjure magic of their own. Lily James, in The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society and Cinderella, could not put a princessly foot wrong but although appealing here, she’s too much the ingenue for the steely business at hand.

But no matter, the film has its charms and one imagines that director Leveaux will make the thrills in his next film as good as the interpersonals (that is, make the former either more thrilling or more satiric). As it is, the domestic affairs that play out in this bit of imagined drama are well worth the flaws.

The real Kaiser, below, (grandson of England’s Queen Victoria) never went anywhere — he died in June 1941 at his Dutch estate (one imagines as a complication of smoking).


The above post is written by our 
monthly correspondent, Lee Liberman

Sunday, March 17, 2019

Our March Sunday Corner With Lee Liberman MAXIMILIAN AND MARIE DE BOURGOGNE: A Game of Power and Love -- Medieval thrones on STARZ


Polheim the wise: 
“The Lord loves the simple-minded — 
that’s why there are so many.” 

The slice of European history revealed in this six-episode series feels distant, our being exposed most to British crowns and wars. Thriller and romance, the story of Maximilian and Marie takes us behind the European curtain to Austria, France, and its rich French relative, the Duchy of Burgundy, during the late Middle Ages. It’s a glimpse in the dark as the sun is about to rise on the Renaissance (spurred by printing press output -- the first “new media” in the west).

The action in those parts was just as dicey as Henry’s chewing up wives across the channel. Produced by German and Austrian networks jointly, the series was written by Martin Ambrosch and directed by Andreas Prochaska; it is handsomely crafted in dark medieval hues with Romeo-and-Juliet star-crossings and relationships that feel surprisingly intimate. (Below: director Andreas Prochaska, shown right, and Jannis Niewöhner as Maximilian.)

Maximilian (1459-1519), later called “the last knight” of the medieval era, is at 18 the brash son of Hapsburg Emperor, King Frederick III of Austria, seat of the region called the ‘Holy Roman Empire’ (which Voltaire wrote was neither holy, Roman, nor an empire). Maximilian is disgusted at his father’s passivity in dealing with enemies; he whiles away his nights with Rosina, his sister’s lady-in-waiting, and hunts by day with Polheim, his friend and chamberlain (the only one who will tell him the truth). This is Maximilian’s coming-of-age story.

Emperor Frederick (above) solves politics and foreign aggression not on his horse but in his throne room orchestrating marriages — he has lined up the 40-year-old Hungarian King (his enemy), to marry his 12-year-old daughter and orders his son, Maximilian, to marry the rich Marie of Burgundy. Marie’s father, Charles the Bold, has enlarged Burgundian territory and wealth through acquisition; it is flourishing — a center of cloth, commerce, and sophistication. Marie is ill-disposed to an Austrian match (They stink and eat raw meat, everyone says….) until her father is felled in battle. His death suddenly exposes her to a French law that subjects Burgundy to French rule if no male body sits on the throne. The French king, Louis XI, is pressing his advantage. With promises and bribes, he makes allies of merchants of Ghent* (Belgium), her capitol, who abusively force Marie to agree to marrying Louis’s under-age son, Charles. Below l, young Charles, with famous French actor, Jean-Hugues Anglade, as King Louis (out of focus).

The sly but aging Louis, in between having crippling strokes, is now using guns-for-hire and his own assassins to get rid of Maximilian, clearing the path to control Burgundy (below, Maximilian evading assassins).

Aggressive machinations play out separately against Maximilian and Marie until they meet in episode 4, (and after). In the meantime they each have begun to internalize the urgency of an alliance — a marriage would be the least disagreeable means-to-ends. He needs her wealth to quash his father’s enemies and she needs him to prevent Burgundy’s absorption by France.

Marie has sent Johanna, her lady-in-waiting, to the Austrian court where Johanna puts Maximilian to the sniff test (does he bathe), is he uncouth, is he literate. Determined now to thwart the French, Maximilian comes up with a scheme to rush the marriage from his sickbed — he is recovering from the plague. He and Polheim barely beat King Louis’s henchmen to Burgundy.

For a subplot, Polheim and Johanna fall in star-crossed love, she already having been married at 14 to a gross old man. (The doomed couple below.)

The action does not supplant lovely bits of intimate conversation — the glue that distinguishes this story from the usual. Maximilian and Marie, for instance, are ruled by their heads in landing themselves in the marriage bed, but they are royal, and negotiating sex with a spouse who is a total stranger has its awkwardness. We listen in.

Niewöhner (a young Brad Pitt type) is Maximilian; the accomplished French actress, Christa Théret, is Marie. Théret is familiar as the cherubic, peaches-and-cream model/muse of painter, Renoir, in the beautiful French biopic Renoir (on Amazon Prime). She is too thin here as Marie and dressed unflatteringly, but luminous as the young duchess. The dialogue is filmed in the actors’ own languages, as in Marie speaks to Maximilian in French and he to her in German, though English subtitles blur this oddness. European viewers may be at ease in this multi-lingual world but we, at least, get the message about the varied ethnicity of the region compared to the homogeneity across the English channel. The graphic below shows the changing dimensions of the Holy Roman Empire from 962 — 1806.

The action shifts among the Austrian, French, and Burgundian courts but there’s an English tie here in the person of Margaret of York, widow and third wife of Marie’s father, Charles the Bold. She is sister to Britain’s Edward IV and Richard III, who (history records) befriends her step-daughter and remains a supportive counselor to the young Duchess. (Below, l, Johanna, Marie, and Margaret of York.)

Note that in ‘The White Princess’ series on STARZ,** Margaret of York is a manipulative power behind the throne at the Burgundian court. Whatever the veracity of either version, this German production is more fun than the English soap.

In any event, the marriage between Maximilian and Marie was short but a genuine love match (archive depiction above). Maximilian married twice after her death, also for political alliance, but we are told he was loveless in later life. He was at war most of it, famous for jousting and influencing armor design.

This ‘last knight’ was also an avid patron of the sciences and arts — he was a bridge from the medieval to the modern world, reveling in past glory, making use of Renaissance munificence. But it was through his children with Marie that Hapsburg influence continued and would survive as the Austria-Hungary Empire until 1918. Queen Elizabeth II is among Maximilian’s descendants. But never mind Hapsburg politics and shifting borders, this romance is an entertaining appetizer to the blockbuster of all games of thrones due to resume in April on HBO.

*Note: A New York Times illustrated travel piece on Ghent, Belgium (3/3/19), looks just like the 15th century version See article here.

**Note on STARZ: Former CEO Chris Albrecht (originator of much of HBO’s early successes and STARZ’s current content) has departed. Speculation is that new owner, Lionsgate, may replace some STARZ content by summer. Now would be the time to catch up.

The above post was written by our 
monthly Sunday correspondent, Lee Liberman