TV Review: "Becoming Elizabeth"
The new Starz costume drama reminds viewers of the deadly, dangerous nature of Tudor politics.
If you know anything about me at all, you know I am an unabashed fan of the costume drama, and I will defend even the most sudsy and melodramatic of them–see also: The Tudors–to the death. While it is very easy for many critics to dismiss the genre as little more than soap opera in fancy dress, I’ve always thought that it is precisely the genre’s emphasis on excess, ornamentation and, above all, desire, that allows it to offer its own peculiar perspective on the past and those who lived there.
Which brings us to Becoming Elizabeth, the new series from Starz. Over the last decade or so Starz has excelled at creating a number of very prominent–and, for the most part, well-received–costume dramas, whether it’s Outlander (an adaptation of the hugely successful novel series of the same name) or the numerous adaptations of Philippa Gregory’s works, most notably The White Queen (about the women of the Wars of the Roses, particularly Elizabeth Woodville), The White Princess (focusing on Jodie Comer’s Elizabeth and her attempt to build a stable life with Henry VII), and The Spanish Princess (about Katherine of Aragon and her fraught relationship with Henry VIII). Like those, Becoming Elizabeth focuses on extraordinary women, including, obviously, the young woman fated to become Elizabeth I but also her half-sister, Mary and her stepmother, Catherine Parr.
When Becoming Elizabeth begins, Henry VIII has just died, leaving England in an uncertain state. Though the crown passes peacefully enough to his son, Edward VI, it soon becomes clear that the vultures are gathering, yearning for their own cliche of power. Foremost of these are the king’s two uncles, Edward and Thomas Seymor, the former of whom is the Lord Protector and the latter of whom yearns for more power. Elizabeth is very quickly thrust into the maelstrom, for she is sent to live with her stepmother, Katherine Parr, who has taken Thomas Seymour as a lover and, later, as a husband. Very quickly, Elizabeth falls in love with Thomas, with unfortunate results for both herself and the political realm.
Forged in this cauldron of distrust and constant maneuvering, it’s no wonder that Elizabeth finds herself battered and bruised and, ultimately, desperate to grasp what little bit of agency she can. Like her brother, when the series begins she is very much a pawn in the hands of others. Slowly but surely, however, she begins to assert her own independence, taking actions that don’t always meet with what her elders want of her. This explains, in part, her decision to pursue Thomas Seymor, even though she knows doing so is both personally and politically irresponsible. As she says to her young companion Robert Dudley, however, she believes it is her right to be rash and irresponsible, and time and again she seizes her own fate with both hands. As the season has progressed, she has also shown quite a head for political strategy, and while she makes her fair share of mistakes, she’s always willing to learn from them.
Alice von Rittberg brings a fierce and fiery energy to this Tudor monarch-in-in-the-making. She gives us a young woman yearning to be free, to live a life that is not circumscribed by the wishes and desires and others and, in less capable hands, Elizabeth would have become nothing more than a bratty teen. Rittberg, however, is skilled at showing us just how complicated Elizabeth was, and while she is definitely young, there are already foreshadowings of the queen she would become. This is particularly clear in the scene in which she cuts the throat of a stag during a hunt, a graphic moment in which she braves danger because she wants to (it’s also worth pointing out that, indeed, Elizabeth was a very famous huntswoman, famed throughout her reign for her skill and her willingness to outride most of her courtiers).
Though Elizabeth is obviously the series’ primary focus, I appreciated the extent to which it also gives significant airtime to some of the period’s other notable female fingers, particularly Catherine Parr and Mary Tudor. The former is often depicted in popular culture as the woman who was willing to nurse Henry in his last illness and only, more rarely, as a woman of fierce intellectual and religious convictions who flirted with danger when the conservatives at court (led by Stephen Gardiner) tried to bring her down. While Becoming Elizabeth doesn’t pay a great deal of attention to her scholarly attainments, it does paint her as someone more than willing to scheme and manipulate with the best of them. Heartily aggrieved at being passed over for the regency, she is more than willing to use her influence over the young King Edward to attain her goals, even as she also has to contend with her husband’s dangerous flirtation with her stepdaughter. Jessica Raine skillfully brings out her cunning and her ruthlessness.
Mary, likewise, emerges from this series as a young woman who, like her younger sister, has had to contend with the brutal reality of life at her father’s court. Romola Garai–noted for playing the teenaged Briony in Atonement–brings out the richness and complexity of one of England’s most maligned queens. She bears more than a passing resemblance to Rittberg, and this allows us to truly believe we are watching two sisters together. Though she has yet to become the dogmatic and inflexible queen infamous for sending her own subjects to the flames, there are hints here of who Mary will become. She clings to her Catholic faith despite her brother’s Protestant zeal. At the same time, she is also a cunning political operator, just as willing as her sister to do what is necessary to get ahead, even if that means betraying Elizabeth herself.
Aesthetically, Becoming Elizabeth sets itself apart from other offerings from the network in its reliance on dimly-lit scenes to convey a sense of the byzantine and sinister nature of Tudor politics. Time and again, we see characters meeting in darkened chambers, where their faces (like their true motivations) are cloaked in shadow. Obviously, this aims to create a sense of authenticity, but it’s striking because it’s so different from almost every other costume drama that has aired on Starz. To take but one example, The Spanish Princess (the most recent offering before Becoming Elizabeth) is almost too brightly lit. In that respect, Becoming Elizabeth bears more than a bit of a resemblance to Wolf Hall, another drama about the Tudor court that spoke eloquently about the dangers and possibilities of royal power.
In the world created by Becoming Elizabeth, the closer you fly to the sun, the more dangerous your life becomes. It’s a lesson Elizabeth herself will have to learn, before it’s too late.