Hyde Park Pick: Queen At Sea

The central story of the film looks a little different depending on the lens with which one views it. On one hand it is a very clear story about consent, on the other it a more complexe story  about the impacts of dementia and the cruel ways in which it erodes the identity.

The film follows Amanda (Binoche) and her stepfather, Martin (Courtney), at odds over a moral quandary involving Amanda’s mother, Leslie (Calder-Marshall). In the advanced stages of dementia, they quarrel over whether Leslie has lost all ability to make critical decisions in her own best interests, and, if so, who is responsible – a spouse, a child, an institution – for making such a determination? As Amanda and Martin are forced to make increasingly difficult choices, the repercussions spiral out of their control.

Queen at Sea is a difficult film to sell so this Pick isn’t trying to do that. It is instead advocating for complexe storytelling and films which stay with you. Because this is a film which stays long beyond the end credits.

On an experiential level, the filmmaking here is quite beautiful. Many of the interior shots  have the feel of a painting: a little austere but also serene composed with the precision of an Edward Hopper work or a Dutch master. The film captures light beautifully, reflecting the textures and rhythms of domestic life but also echoing some of the coldness that comes with dementia. As slowly with time a loved one evolves to a story of patient and even the most intimate of familial relationships become something different as a consequence of dementia.  

The aesthetic grace of the film, its visual beauty, and the strength of the performances alone would make it worthy of admiration.

But the more important recommendation comes from the complexity of the moral arguments at its core.

The opening of the film features a raw scene that all viewers are likely to find difficult. It begins with a position that feels black and white. However, in the first turns of the narrative, that certainty is challenged.

Over the ensuing two hours, each moral assumption is tugged at. Weeks after first seeing the film, I found myself still grappling with its questions. That's a rare thing.

I watch a great many films, and even those I love can sometimes become lost amidst the volume and noise of everything else. Queen at Sea has not been lost, more accurately a cannot shake it. I find myself returning to it: sad, challenged, moved. It continues to provoke a whole range of emotions. I still haven't arrived at a fully settled position. But I know it's remarkable and I know it won't be for everyone.

Yet for some people, it will be exactly the kind of intense experience that cinema has the potential to provide: a space in which to explore genuinely difficult questions.