Watching this biopic of Grace Kelly, viewers must inevitably be reminded of Oliver Hirschbiegel's DIANA (2013). In the earlier film Diana (Naomi Watts) was portrayed as a woman more sinned against than sinning, who despite a unique telegenic ability, was still very much the ugly duckling of the British Royal Family. The feeling of being an outsider drove her into an assertive mood, which found its apotheosis in the divorce from Prince Charles and the subsequent relationships with James Hewitt and Dodi Fayed.
Likewise in Olivier Dahan's biopic Grace Kelly (Nicole Kidman) is ostracized by the Monegasque Court, despite her privileged status as the wife of Prince Rainier (Tim Roth). Try as she might, she can never seem to win them over; she is always perceived as a Hollywood star playing the role of her life. It is only when she listens to the sage advice of fellow-American Father Francis Tucker (Frank Langella) about the importance of taking her responsibilities seriously that she acquires both the strength of will and the self- possession to save Monaco from being colonized permanently by the French under Charles de Gaulle (André Penvern). Once she achieves that feat, she gains the kind of acceptance with the powers that be that Diana never enjoyed.
Dahan's film captures the glitter of the Monegasque court, as well as its superficialities; its emphasis on outward show as embodied in the many official parties and ceremonial occasions. As in DIANA, the Royal Family is awash with petty dislikes and plots; Grace discovers to her cost that her husband's position as head of state is being deliberately undermined by members of his own family. But in a world committed to surfaces, such treacheries cannot be brought to the surface: everyone smiles, bows and scrapes in front of the Prince and Princess, however much the monarchs might be disliked.
The film contains some remarkably good impersonations: Roger Ashton- Griffiths is far more convincing as Alfred Hitchcock than either Anthony Hopkins or Toby Jones (who have both played the great director on screen in the last few years). Robert Lindsay is almost unrecognizable as Aristotle Onassis, complete with a Greek accent strongly reminiscent of Harry Enfield's Eighties comedy character Stavros. By contrast Paz Vega communicates the vulnerabilities lurking beneath the confident surface of Maria Callas' character; like Kelly herself, she was caught in a gilded cage and had to make the best of life within it.
Perhaps not the most distinguished biopic, GRACE OF MONACO nonetheless tells a parable for our times about the difficulties of leading a life as a permanent celebrity, especially in cultures ostensibly venerating their Royal Families.
Likewise in Olivier Dahan's biopic Grace Kelly (Nicole Kidman) is ostracized by the Monegasque Court, despite her privileged status as the wife of Prince Rainier (Tim Roth). Try as she might, she can never seem to win them over; she is always perceived as a Hollywood star playing the role of her life. It is only when she listens to the sage advice of fellow-American Father Francis Tucker (Frank Langella) about the importance of taking her responsibilities seriously that she acquires both the strength of will and the self- possession to save Monaco from being colonized permanently by the French under Charles de Gaulle (André Penvern). Once she achieves that feat, she gains the kind of acceptance with the powers that be that Diana never enjoyed.
Dahan's film captures the glitter of the Monegasque court, as well as its superficialities; its emphasis on outward show as embodied in the many official parties and ceremonial occasions. As in DIANA, the Royal Family is awash with petty dislikes and plots; Grace discovers to her cost that her husband's position as head of state is being deliberately undermined by members of his own family. But in a world committed to surfaces, such treacheries cannot be brought to the surface: everyone smiles, bows and scrapes in front of the Prince and Princess, however much the monarchs might be disliked.
The film contains some remarkably good impersonations: Roger Ashton- Griffiths is far more convincing as Alfred Hitchcock than either Anthony Hopkins or Toby Jones (who have both played the great director on screen in the last few years). Robert Lindsay is almost unrecognizable as Aristotle Onassis, complete with a Greek accent strongly reminiscent of Harry Enfield's Eighties comedy character Stavros. By contrast Paz Vega communicates the vulnerabilities lurking beneath the confident surface of Maria Callas' character; like Kelly herself, she was caught in a gilded cage and had to make the best of life within it.
Perhaps not the most distinguished biopic, GRACE OF MONACO nonetheless tells a parable for our times about the difficulties of leading a life as a permanent celebrity, especially in cultures ostensibly venerating their Royal Families.