Milli mála - 2015, Síða 180
MARGINALISED MONARCH
Milli mála 7/2015
185
as stated in one review (Lowry 2006: 26). However, it also portrays
Mary and her fate quite differently from the rest, so that she receives
much fairer treatment here than in the other films and TV series that
focus on Elizabeth’s reign and are discussed in this article. Not only is
Mary given some prominence in the part of the series dealing with the
problem of the “so-called Queen of Scots,” as Walsingham puts it, but
her portrayal is also refreshingly un-romantic and true to histori-
ographical accounts of Mary. True to history, Mary speaks with a
French accent, and when the two queens meet at Fotheringay we are
presented with a more realistic version of Mary as she is reported to
have looked after almost two decades of imprisonment in England.
Latham discusses this version of Mary at some length:
[P]hysically, this Mary […] is nothing like the perfectly angled
beauty of Hepburn [in the film Mary of Scotland, 1936], the
breathlessly lovely Redgrave, or the sensually attractive Morton.
Flynn’s characterization stresses realism over romanticism: she’s
overweight, sickly pale, with graying hair that frizzes out from
underneath her auburn wig. Her clothing is as drab as her person,
a simple grey gown and a simple crucifix. All of this is a believ-
able side-effect of many years’ imprisonment with nothing to do
but sew, eat and scheme. She is, in short, now unattractive and
completely unassuming – the exact opposite of the often-
romanticized characterization of Mary. (Latham 2011: 250)
At her trial, Mary looks so pale and bloated, she seems to be ill. This
makes her into a really pathetic figure. She keeps standing on her
pride as queen, as being no subject to English law, but tells the judges
to continue nevertheless “for I see you are all determined.” Further-
more, the scene of Mary’s execution is no romanticised affair, but
graphic, brutal and true to the historical record. The beheading is
shown in close detail with the first blow only cutting through less than
half of Mary’s neck and her face contorting in terrible pain. Then
when the executioner holds up her head after the second strike of the
axe, it comes loose from the wig and rolls away and off the scaffold.
As Latham argues, therefore, there “is nothing triumphant, reverent or
glorious in Mary’s end [… and] Mary presents a pitiful figure on the
scaffold” (Latham 2011: 254). Leicester’s reaction speaks volumes:
“How can I ever tell the Queen of this? How can I tell her … and