W.E. | Little White Lies

W.E.

20 Jan 2012 / Released: 20 Jan 2012

Two people in formal evening attire - man in tuxedo, woman in ornate dress - seated in a dim setting.
Two people in formal evening attire - man in tuxedo, woman in ornate dress - seated in a dim setting.
3

Anticipation.

Madge takes on a sizzling 20th century love scandal.

1

Enjoyment.

Laughably feeble portrait of a complex romance.

1

In Retrospect.

Maddeningly incompetent.

Madonna’s lav­ish retelling of a 20th cen­tu­ry scan­dal is lit­tle more than a kitsch van­i­ty project.

This pris­sy, self-impor­tant com­pan­ion piece to The King’s Speech tells part of the true sto­ry of Wal­lis Simp­son (Andrea Rise­bor­ough), the brassy Bal­ti­more socialite who threw a span­ner in the British monar­chy by elop­ing with King Edward VIII (a dash­ing James D’Arcy) in the late 30s.

His abdi­ca­tion and her pub­lic vil­i­fi­ca­tion were the hot gos­sip of the time, but Madon­na (mak­ing her sec­ond out­ing as co-writer/di­rec­tor) isn’t fussed about con­tex­tu­al­is­ing the socio-polit­i­cal rip­ples of their scan­dalous affair. Instead, she hot­foots it to the mid 90s, where a fic­tion­al Man­hat­tan house­wife named Wal­ly (Abbie Cor­nish) finds a way out of her abu­sive domes­tic bell jar cour­tesy of an ivory-tin­kling Russ­ian secu­ri­ty guard (Oscar Isaac).

This inces­sant to-and-fro nar­ra­tive tier­ing is impru­dent, not least because Wally’s plight has a great deal more dra­mat­ic mer­it than that of her cold, razor-taloned coun­ter­part. In escap­ing her husband’s mali­cious clutch­es Wal­ly shows con­sid­er­able guts. By com­par­i­son Wal­lis’ actions seem entire­ly con­niv­ing and self­ish (although they are val­i­dat­ed, some­what clum­si­ly, by flash­backs of her own domes­tic ago­nies). It’s all in the name of love, of course, but a love we nev­er made to invest in.

You would be for­giv­en for expect­ing that an infa­mous 20th cen­tu­ry love sto­ry that rocked an empire might make for com­pelling cin­e­ma. But the mad­den­ing extent of Madonna’s blun­der­ing is such that you won’t care whether Wal­lis and Edward’s romance sinks or swims. In fact, dur­ing one sick­ly beach­side ren­dez-vous you’ll be pray­ing for an unsea­son­ably strong tide to roar in and drag the whole shod­dy mess under.

Madonna’s poor­ly received direc­to­r­i­al debut, 2008’s Filth and Wis­dom, was large­ly ignored, but there’s no avoid­ing this tri­umphant wet guff, such is its pun­gance and so eye-sting­ing its impact. As far as her film career is con­cerned, this is a real step back – and that’s say­ing something.

Of its many short­com­ings, per­haps the most insult­ing thing about W.E. is its arro­gance. But this seri­ous film, laden with look at me’ visu­als – grainy close-ups, exces­sive soft focus – and reek­ing of van­i­ty project ego­tism, is only ren­dered laugh­able by its kitschy sycophancy.

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