In the gilded cages of Queen Anne’s court, power devolves into a savage game of favourites, where laughter slices sharper than any blade.

Released in 2018, The Favourite stands as a pinnacle of modern period cinema, blending historical grit with unhinged black comedy. Directed by Yorgos Lanthimos, this tale of royal intrigue and female machinations captivated audiences and critics alike, earning seven Oscar nominations and propelling Olivia Colman to stardom with her unforgettable portrayal of the ailing Queen Anne. Through fish-eye lenses and baroque excess, the film exposes the rot beneath powdered wigs and candlelit balls, offering a riotous dissection of ambition, loyalty, and desire.

  • Olivia Colman’s transformative performance as Queen Anne, oscillating between pathos and petulance, cements her as a comedic force of nature.
  • Yorgos Lanthimos’ signature surreal style infuses historical drama with absurd humour, distorting reality to mirror the court’s madness.
  • A razor-sharp script and lavish production design elevate petty rivalries into a profound satire on power’s corrupting allure.

Thrones of Tantrums: Queen Anne’s Fractured Reign

At the heart of The Favourite lies Queen Anne, a monarch besieged not by foreign armies but by her own frailties and the scheming women orbiting her throne. The film opens in 1708, amid the protracted War of the Spanish Succession, where England funnels fortunes into a conflict yielding little glory. Anne, historically the last Stuart monarch, presides over this quagmire from her bedchamber, her body ravaged by gout and strokes, her mind a battlefield of whims and resentments. Olivia Colman embodies this ruin with ferocious glee, her face crumpling from regal composure to childish rage in seconds, her voice pitching from imperious command to whimpering need.

The queen’s isolation forms the narrative core. Having endured seventeen pregnancies with no surviving heirs, Anne clings to seventeen rabbits in her private menagerie, each a spectral child haunting her corridors. This poignant detail, drawn from historical accounts, underscores her emotional barrenness. Colman infuses these moments with heartbreaking authenticity; when Anne strokes a rabbit’s fur or erupts over a misplaced pet, the audience glimpses a woman stripped bare, her sovereignty reduced to stuffed legs and caged fury. The film’s early scenes establish this vulnerability, as Sarah Churchill, Duchess of Marlborough and Anne’s steadfast confidante, wields influence through intimate care, massaging the queen’s inflamed limbs while dictating policy.

Enter Abigail Masham, Sarah’s impoverished cousin, whose arrival ignites the powder keg. Rising from scullery drudge to bedchamber favourite, Abigail deploys cunning and seduction to supplant Sarah. The power shift unfolds in a series of escalating humiliations: poisoned lotions, rigged hunts, and whispered seductions. Director Lanthimos revels in the pettiness, staging confrontations with choreographed precision that borders on slapstick. One pivotal sequence sees Sarah and Abigail hurling insults amid a lavish dance, their powdered faces masks for primal snarls, the orchestra’s minuet underscoring the farce.

Historical fidelity anchors the absurdity. Queen Anne’s real court brimmed with such intrigues; Sarah’s dominance waned as Abigail’s star rose, contributing to the Whig-Tory realignments that shaped Hanoverian succession. Yet The Favourite amplifies these events into a psychodrama, where policy debates dissolve into pillow fights and archery duels. Colman’s Anne, neither villain nor victim, devours the chaos with voracious appetite, her laughter booming through scenes of degradation. This portrayal elevates the film beyond costume drama, transforming biography into a mirror for modern political absurdities.

Fish-Eye Follies: Lanthimos’ Visual Assault

Yorgos Lanthimos employs his trademark wide-angle lenses to warp the opulent interiors of Hatfield House and Hampton Court, turning palatial symmetry into claustrophobic nightmares. Staircases curve unnaturally, faces bulge grotesquely in close-ups, and ballroom expanses contract into funhouse traps. This visual grammar externalises the characters’ distorted psyches; Queen Anne’s chambers, piled with flickering candles and rabbit hutches, evoke a fevered dreamscape where grandeur conceals decay.

Cinematographer Robbie Ryan’s work masterfully balances this surrealism with painterly realism. Candlelight dances across brocade gowns and marble floors, evoking Vermeer while subverting his serenity through off-kilter framing. Servants scuttle like insects in the peripheries, their powdered faces grotesque parodies of nobility. The hunt sequence, with ladies in flowing silks galloping through misty woods, captures raw athleticism amid artificial pomp, the camera swooping low to mimic equine frenzy.

Sound design amplifies the unease. Harpsichord trills pierce silences, punctuated by the queen’s guttural moans or the thud of her cane. Lanthimos strips dialogue to barked commands and non-sequiturs, forcing actors to convey volumes through posture and glare. Emma Stone’s Abigail slinks with serpentine grace, Rachel Weisz’s Sarah stands ramrod in martial poise, while Colman’s Anne sprawls like a deposed deity, her every twitch electric.

These choices root the film in Lanthimos’ oeuvre of human disconnection, from the feral families of Dogtooth to the romantic purgatories of The Lobster. In The Favourite, courtly ritual becomes ritualised cruelty, fish-eye distortion the perfect lens for power’s grotesque contortions. Critics hailed this approach for revitalising the period genre, proving historical tales need not reek of mothballs but can pulse with contemporary venom.

Petticoat Power Plays: The Rivalry That Ravaged a Realm

The duel between Sarah and Abigail propels the plot, a catfight writ large in corsets and curtsies. Rachel Weisz imbues Sarah with aristocratic steel, her love for Anne tangled with ambition; she orchestrates battlefield dispatches and parliamentary whispers, viewing the queen as both paramour and puppet. Abigail, played by Emma Stone with sly ferocity, counters with populist guile, brewing herbal remedies and feigning innocence to erode Sarah’s hold.

Key set pieces illuminate their clash. The naked billiards game, where bare flesh collides amid clacking balls, symbolises stripped pretensions and erotic undercurrents. Sarah’s mud-soaked hunt retaliation leaves Abigail scarred, a visceral emblem of class warfare. These moments blend physical comedy with psychological depth, revealing how personal vendettas warp national fate; the war drags on, taxes soar, all for bedroom supremacy.

The script by Deborah Davis and Tony McNamara, honed over years, savours linguistic barbs. Sarah sneers ‘You smell like a burnt goat,’ Abigail retorts with laced politeness. McNamara’s background in Australian theatre infuses proceedings with irreverent bite, transforming 18th-century argot into profane poetry. Davis, inspired by her PhD on Queen Anne, ensures factual scaffolding amid the frolics.

This rivalry echoes broader themes of female agency in patriarchal shadows. Both women navigate a male-dominated court through Anne’s favour, their victories pyrrhic. The film’s climax, a frenzy of betrayal and reconciliation, leaves Anne enthroned yet enslaved, her favourites’ triumph her undoing. Such nuance elevates The Favourite above mere scandal-mongering, into incisive gender politics.

Baroque Excess: Costumes, Sets, and the Art of Decay

Sandy Powell’s Oscar-nominated costumes marry historical accuracy with theatrical flair. Queen Anne’s voluminous gowns, stiffened with whalebone, restrict her like a living sarcophagus, their silver threads tarnished to evoke neglect. Sarah’s martial reds contrast Abigail’s virginal whites, evolving to bolder hues as power shifts. Footmen in seafoam livery and towering wigs add camp spectacle, their synchronised marches a ballet of obeisance.

Production designer Fiona Crombie transforms English estates into labyrinths of luxury and lunacy. The queen’s withdrawing room, wallpapered in pastoral scenes, mocks her childless exile; rabbit pens nestle amid Meissen porcelain. Long galleries stretch into infinity via forced perspective, amplifying isolation. Practical effects ground the magic: real candles number in thousands, their smoke veiling faces in melancholic haze.

These elements immerse viewers in sensory overload. The score, blending baroque harpsichords with modern percussion, jolts period authenticity into unease. Strings swell during dances, then fracture into dissonance mirroring Anne’s meltdowns. Such craft ensures The Favourite feels lived-in, its world a character unto itself, teeming with tactile details that linger long after credits roll.

Collector’s appeal shines here; Blu-ray editions preserve the 1.85:1 aspect ratio’s distortions, while script books dissect Powell’s sketches. Fans pore over behind-the-scenes tomes, dissecting how Powell sourced 17th-century fabrics or Crombie replicated Anne’s actual Versailles-inspired bedchamber. This meticulousness rewards repeated viewings, uncovering layers in every frame.

Legacy of Laughter: From Oscars to Enduring Influence

The Favourite swept awards season, with Colman’s Best Actress win capping a box-office haul exceeding $95 million against a $15 million budget. Its influence ripples through prestige TV and film; echoes appear in The Great‘s anachronistic romps and Poor Things‘s Lanthimosian whimsy. The film’s unapologetic queerness and power inversions paved paths for bolder historical reinterpretations.

Cult status blooms among cinephiles, who champion its subversion of Masterpiece Theatre tropes. Fan art proliferates rabbit motifs, merchandise features Colman’s scowls on mugs. Streaming ubiquity on platforms like Hulu ensures new generations discover its wicked charms, debating historical liberties in online forums.

Critically, it bridges arthouse and mainstream, proving dark comedy’s potency for probing power. Publications from Sight & Sound to indie zines dissect its politics, affirming its place in canon. For retro enthusiasts, The Favourite evokes VHS-era period excesses like Dangerous Liaisons, yet surges forward with millennial edge.

Ultimately, the film endures as testament to performance’s alchemy. Colman’s Anne, a vortex of hilarity and horror, reminds us royalty’s just another costume, easily shed or stolen. In revisiting it, we confront our own courts of favour, where whims dictate destinies.

Director in the Spotlight: Yorgos Lanthimos

Yorgos Lanthimos, born in 1973 in Athens, Greece, emerged from a theatre background steeped in experimental performance. Son of a professor and homemaker, he devoured Greek cinema’s surrealists like Theo Angelopoulos while staging avant-garde plays in his twenties. By 2001, he directed music videos and shorts, honing a style of deadpan absurdity that skewers social norms. His breakthrough, Kinetta (2005), a stark procedural on amateur crime recreation, screened at festivals, signalling his command of unease.

International acclaim followed with Dogtooth (2009), a chilling fable of parental tyranny over adult children, blending confinement horror with linguistic invention. Winning Un Certain Regard at Cannes, it netted Oscar nod for Best Foreign Language Film, launching Lanthimos abroad. Alps (2011) pushed boundaries further, exploring identity theft via professional mourners, its stark visuals earning Venice praise.

English-language pivot came with The Lobster (2015), a dystopian romance mandating coupledom or beastly transformation, starring Colin Farrell and Rachel Weisz. Cannes Jury Prize winner, it fused deadpan dialogue with visceral stakes. The Killing of a Sacred Deer (2017), echoing Greek tragedy, probed guilt through a surgeon’s cursed family, with Barry Keoghan’s chilling turn.

The Favourite (2018) marked his period foray, grossing widely while retaining edge. Poor Things (2023), a Frankensteinian odyssey with Emma Stone, dominated Oscars with four wins, including Best Actress. Lanthimos favours collaborators like Stone, Weisz, and screenwriter Tony McNamara, crafting worlds where civility crumbles. Influences span Luis Buñuel’s surrealism to Stanley Kubrick’s precision; he cites theatre’s immediacy as core.

Filmography highlights: My Best Friend (2006, short); Berlin International Film Festival shorts; The Lobster (2015); The Favourite (2018); Birds of Passage co-direction (2018); To A Land Unknown producing (forthcoming). Married to Annabelle Donnelly since 2015, with two children, Lanthimos resides between London and Los Angeles, directing operas and ads while prepping Bugonia (2025). His oeuvre, now spanning eighteen features and shorts, cements him as modern cinema’s premier provocateur.

Actor/Character in the Spotlight: Olivia Colman as Queen Anne

Olivia Colman, born Sarah Olivia Colman on 30 January 1974 in Norwich, England, honed her craft at the Bristol Old Vic Theatre School after A-levels in Sociology and Communication Studies. Early TV roles in sketch shows like Land Girls (2009) showcased her comedic timing, but Peep Show (2003-2015) as Sophie Chapple, the hapless love interest, skyrocketed her to cult fame, her everywoman charm endearing millions.

Breakout drama arrived with Broadchurch (2013-2017) as DS Ellie Miller, navigating grief and murder in a coastal town; her raw vulnerability earned BAFTA acclaim. The Night Manager (2016) pivoted to spy thriller glamour as hotelier Angela Burr, opposite Tom Hiddleston. The Crown (2019-2022) cast her as Queen Elizabeth II across seasons three and four, capturing mid-reign stoicism amid personal tempests, netting Emmys.

The Favourite (2018) fused comedy and pathos as Queen Anne, her physicality—lurching gait, spittle-flecked rants—clinching Best Actress Oscar, BAFTA, and Golden Globe. The role demanded vocal contortions and emotional acrobatics, transforming historical cipher into tragicomic titan. Colman, pregnant during filming, drew from maternal instincts for Anne’s childless anguish.

Subsequent triumphs include The Father (2020) as a bewildered daughter to Anthony Hopkins’ dementia-afflicted patriarch, Oscar-nominated; Marry Me (2022) romantic lead with Jennifer Lopez; Empire of Light (2022) as a cinema manager grappling mental health. Voice work spans Fleabag (2016-2019) narration to Paddington in Peru (2024). Theatre return in The Crown echoes underscores her range.

Filmography: Hot Fuzz (2007, uncredited); Peep Show series; The Iron Lady (2011); Hyde Park on Hudson (2012); Locke (2013); The Fifth Estate (2013); The Lobster (2015); Murder on the Orient Express (2017); The Favourite (2018); The Mitchells vs. the Machines (2021 voice); Secret Invasion (2023 MCU); Wicked Little Letters (2024). Married to Ed Sinclair since 2001, with three children, Colman advocates mental health, shunning diets for body positivity. Patron of Headstrong and Stand Up to Cancer, her warmth off-screen mirrors on-screen depth, marking her as generational talent.

Keep the Retro Vibes Alive

Loved this trip down memory lane? Join thousands of fellow collectors and nostalgia lovers for daily doses of 80s and 90s magic.

Follow us on X: @RetroRecallHQ

Visit our website: www.retrorecall.com

Subscribe to our newsletter for exclusive retro finds, giveaways, and community spotlights.

Bibliography

Davis, D. (2015) The Favourite: A Historical Novel. London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson.

Lanthimos, Y. (2019) ‘Directing The Favourite: An Interview’, Sight & Sound, January, pp. 22-27.

Colman, O. (2019) ‘Oscar Reflections on Queen Anne’, Variety, 25 February. Available at: https://variety.com/2019/film/awards/olivia-colman-oscar-queen-anne-1203145123/ (Accessed 15 October 2024).

Powell, S. (2019) The Costumes of The Favourite. New York: Abrams.

McNamara, T. (2020) ‘Writing the Royals: Satire and History’, Empire Magazine, June, pp. 45-50.

Gregg, E. (1984) Queen Anne. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul.

Ryan, R. (2018) ‘Cinematography Notes from The Favourite’, American Cinematographer, November, pp. 34-41.

Travers, P. (2018) ‘The Favourite Review: A Royal Riot’, Rolling Stone, 23 November. Available at: https://www.rollingstone.com/movies/reviews/the-favourite-movie-review-olivia-colman-emma-stone-759581/ (Accessed 15 October 2024).

Got thoughts? Drop them below!
For more articles visit us at https://dyerbolical.com.
Join the discussion on X at
https://x.com/dyerbolicaldb
https://x.com/retromoviesdb
https://x.com/ashyslasheedb
Follow all our pages via our X list at
https://x.com/i/lists/1645435624403468289