Spencer, the 2021 film by Pablo Larraín, depicts “a fable from true tragedy”: the true tragedy being the undoing of Princess Diana. There has been endless speculation surrounding Diana’s death in 1997 and, while the film doesn’t include the death itself, it touches on her struggle as the Other in such a rigid, controlling institution.
Diana (played by Kristen Stewart) represents more than herself in the film; she represents those who refuse conformity at the expense of the self. Instead of focusing on the conspiracies surrounding her foreshadowed death, it’s worthwhile to unpack her experience as a royal, and how there’s a little Diana in all of us who find life difficult in corrupt institutions.
Kristen Stewart is vulnerable and earnest in her portrayal of Diana. We see a free-spirited bird–a pheasant, if you will–who just wants to be seen. Who wants to be free. While the Prince of Wales (who isn’t called by name *cough Charles* in the film) urges Diana to “make [her] body do things [she] hates,” because there must be “the real [you] and the one they take pictures of,” Diana simply can’t. It’s a betrayal against herself.
The hypocrisy among the Royals is a large part of the film’s corruption. While Diana is constantly monitored, gaslighted, convinced she “needs a doctor” for her paranoia and resistance to control, the Prince does what he wants. While Diana’s got to perform Perfect Princess for the cameras (and the Royals), the Prince is having an affair that nobody will mention.
Looking at someone doesn’t always mean seeing them. The distinction between looking and seeing – and the way that makes the Watched feel – is explored at length in the film. Diana is constantly watched. While the Royals consistently remind her to shut her curtains –even ordering a member of staff to sew them up– because of paparazzi, the harshest surveillance is within the Firm. In fact, Diana escapes to her childhood home more than once, without the paparazzi in sight.
Everything is observed and heard within the royal walls. Who is Diana expected to perform her “picture self” for? When the camera angle is from Diana’s POV in a group setting, there are threatening, judgemental stares from everywhere. As with many other institutions, like church, or even university, we are trained to police each other.
There is an intriguing dynamic between Diana and the staff. Everybody is aware of the unsaid contract that Diana must behave in a manner the queen approves of. They admire her nature but see her rebellion as the death wish it is. She’s unaware who to trust, especially when she’s told the only person she can be herself around, Maggie (Sally Hawkins), said she’s cracking.
Diana is warned by the staff in secret. Even by the employed spy, Equerry Major Alistair Gregory (Timothy Spall), who leaves a book about Anne Boleyn in Diana’s room. He speaks to her cryptically, saying he has taken an “oath,” as she has. In a way, he appeals for compassion: it is his duty to keep her on the “right track” and, if she doesn’t comply, he will have to take part in her demise.
There is an underlying admiration for Diana’s resistance to control but a love for her that wants her alive. This is true with Maggie, Diana’s dresser who’s the only person completely real with her. Maggie is sent away by the prince to punish Diana, only to be brought back when Diana becomes severely mentally unwell.
Maggie confesses she’s in love with Diana while they’re at the beach. The love is evident. While she’d prefer Diana alive, she respects Diana’s wish to assert her freedom at all costs. She smiles from the window when, after protesting at a royal pheasant-hunting event by walking in the way of bullets, Diana takes a convertible, and her sons, to KFC.
Maggie’s real love is summarized in saying to Diana, “you don’t need a doctor, you need love.” Maggie does the right thing. We all need a Maggie. She believes Diana. She doesn’t pretend any of it is fair. While we may want our loved-ones safe, love is seeing someone for who they really are–what they really need–and never imprisoning them like haters do. Even if that means their death.
Diana represents the Other. She’s threatened by those in control into performing somebody else, someone more palatable, but she resists. She’s at risk of being swatted like a fly, but she’d rather die authentically than live a lie. She’s watched, made aware of the surveillance, but nobody (besides Maggie) dares to confirm her suspicions. Diana screams, develops an eating disorder, self-harms, rebels, and makes snide remarks to be heard. Like with many “Others” in society, she’s simply made to feel crazy.
