In some ways, public expectations made it impossible for Spencer to ever live up to what people want from a Diana film. It’s not helped that it was directly compared to The Crown, which was airing its seasons about the rifts between Diana and Charles at the same time.
In another sense, a film like Spencer was never going to be broadly liked or warmly received precisely because it is inherently challenging.
Pablo Larraín already made an offputting biopic of a famed historical wife with Jackie, which, whilst better received, garnered similar confusion amongst certain viewers, so it’s no surprise that Spencer is so stark and unexpected.
This is exactly what a biopic should be, however. Rather than a simple womb-to-tomb Wikipedia regurgitation with all the attention placed on accents and makeup to recreate the subject, this film is an oppressive nightmare that puts you in the mind of Diana (Kristen Stewart) and makes you wish for her to escape the archaic prison she is placed in through marriage.
The film is aware of the audience’s pre-existing knowledge and relation to Diane, so it doesn’t waste time repeating it back to you. Instead, we are treated to an insight into her psyche. It’s a tall order for Stewart, who has to command the screen for virtually the entire runtime. She handles this task exceptionally, not least considering her accent work, which never distracts. Her performance is internal but never shuts the audience out.
Beyond Diana, the other members of the royal family get comparatively little to do. This isn’t a bad thing at all, though. The film remains focused on Diana, her children, and briefly Charles (Jack Farthing). The supporting character with the most consequences is Major Gregory (Timothy Spall), who is running the Christmas get-together Diana is attending. Spall is wonderful as an offbeat, untrustworthy character who may or may not be threatening Diana throughout the film.
Spencer is at times supernatural, featuring ghosts (or fantasy sequences) correlating Diana to Anne Boleyn. It’s an effective and refreshingly abstract way to construct a biopic, as this, in all likelihood, did not play out (or at least not as the film portrays it), but is an effective method of conveying what’s going on internally with Diana.
The real star of the film, though, is Jonny Greenwood’s fantastic score. At times haunting and foreboding, and at times jazzy, the score does a great job of creating the mood and suspense of the film. Multiple scenes are carried primarily by the score. Without the excellent score, the film would be half as good.
Spencer is an imperfect film. What it has to say about the Gilded Cage of the Royal Family is not necessarily new, but the way it does it is refreshing and feels genuinely radical when compared to so much of the media that has chronicled Diana since her death. A messy, imperfect biopic that tries something daring will always be more interesting than a safe, boring one.
