Royals and Schemers

The last I saw of Emily Blunt she was scrubbing the homes of dead people alongside Amy Adams in “Sunshine Cleaning.â€�  Now look: she’s a freshly minted royal in “The Young Victoria.â€�

   My, that girl cleans up real good.

   But seriously, despite a radiant smile to go with her trademark heavy-lidded look and a supporting cast eager to please, Blunt cannot rescue this shockingly banal, two-hour soap opera. Why critics have lauded this movie I will never know.

   The young Victoria is, of course, Mrs. Pre-Brown herself, Queen Victoria, from birth to drinking age. The producers probably put the “Theâ€� in the movie’s title to avoid comparisons with Mel Brooks’ “Young Frankenstein,â€� but no matter, because “Frau Blücherâ€� apparently lives on in the person of Miranda Richardson as the Duchess of Kent, Victoria’s cold, scheming mother.

   Cue the whinnying horses.

 Half the threadbare plot involves the Duchess and her dastardly lover, Sir John Conroy (Mark Strong), darkly plotting to prevent Victoria from assuming the throne by agreeing to “regency,â€� which would leave her under their control.  Sir John looks a little like Stanley Tucci on a bad day and spends a lot of time, well, darkly stalking about, shooting sullen looks, and angrily overturning the royal furniture.

   The other half of the story concerns the romance between Vicky and her intended – no, not Mr. Brown, but Prince Albert of Saxe-Coburg; or is that “Sexy-Coburgâ€� since he’s played by the gorgeous Rupert Friend (Mr. Wickham of “Pride and Prejudiceâ€�).

    So: They meet. They smile at each other and discuss their favorite composers. They ride horses in the rain.  They wed. They snuggle in bed, lots. And they have, if we are to believe one of those end title cards, about 19 gazillion children who will go on to rule the world.

   Does the phrase “Who cares?â€� come to mind? 

   It did to mine.

   Amid all the googly-eyes, there’s some sketchy political business involving the Queen’s closest advisor, Lord Melbourne (a very good, though oddly coiffed, Paul Bettany), and various other royals, politicians, and schemers. Everyone’s got some skin in the game, but what exactly the game is besides generic power struggles is vague. At some point the government dissolves over who appoints the queen’s ladies-in-waiting, and then someone tries to assassinate the queen, in slow-motion.

   There’s good, too: ravishing costumes, grand coronations and weddings, sumptuous palaces. 

   There’s bad: horribly anachronistic dialogue and plot “developmentsâ€� telegraphed from miles away.  Such as King Leopold of Belgium who wants his nephew to get some political dish back to him. Erm, that’s going to end well.

   And there’s deliciously ugly: Jim Broadbent doing a turn as the Queen’s uncle, King William, three sheets to the wind and offending everyone.  Now that’s historical accuracy I can relate to.

 

   “The Young Victoriaâ€� is rated PG; watch out for a dangerously cute canine named Dash. It is playing at The Triplex in Great Barrington, MA.

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