Firebrand review – Jude Law can’t save an unnecessarily revisionist Tudor drama
Though the actor does compelling work as Henry VIII, Karim Aïnouz’s portrait of Catherine Parr is surprisingly bland viewing
Brazilian director Karim Aïnouz’s debut English-language feature, Firebrand, hones in on the last of King Henry VIII’s six wives, Catherine Parr (played by Alicia Vikander). While Catherine is named Regent in her husband’s temporary absence, she seeks out an alleged old friend, Anne Askew (Erin Doherty), a notorious reformist known for treasonous preaching. Down the line, the King uses this meeting as evidence for conspiracy against his reign. The large majority of the plot that falls in between transpires to be a repetitive and tedious way of establishing who is the victim and who is the villain in what amounts to a disappointingly standard Tudor tale.
The primary issue is that the film fails its own protagonist. In trying to constantly present Parr as a tentative victim who ultimately prevails, the film omits the characteristics and accomplishments that claim to have inspired the entire genesis of this project. Kathrine Parr was the first woman to publish a book in the English language, an achievement which is so quickly skimmed over that you would miss it if you blinked. We are told from the outset, in voice over, how we should feel about Parr, but never organically get to the root of who she really was and what she stood for.
Alicia Vikander is no stranger to a biographical period piece, of course, having played a number of prominent women throughout history, most notably in her Oscar-winning turn as Gerda Wegener in Tom Hooper's The Danish Girl. There is only one way to put her performance as Catherine Parr, though, and that is perfectly average. There is nothing exactly wrong with what she's doing here, but it's never invigorating or revealing, which may partially be a consequence of the frequently dull screenplay by Henrietta and Jessica Ashworth.
Jude Law fares better as the boorish King Henry VIII, and comes away feeling like a more rounded character than the film's protagonist. By playing into the notion of a loyal husband who returns from his war campaign abroad, bearing gifts for his beloved wife, his sudden shift into antagonism is made to feel startling, even though it is notoriously factual. Law encapsulates the duality of the historical figure without difficulty, creating a nefariously scene-stealing portrait of a fabled monarch.
Shot by French cinematographer Hélène Louvart, best known for her work on Never Rarely Sometimes Always, Firebrand pertains to an intentional softness that is reminiscent of 16th century paintings and is visually elevated by the stunningly intricate costume design. With such clear intention for the craft within the film, though, it's bizarre that the title card and closing credits are so starkly contrapuntal to the curated vision.
A good piece of biographical entertainment should ideally inspire an audience to seek out further information about its subjects, yet Firebrand sends you away without a single notion of curiosity. It feels as though the film believes itself to be groundbreaking feminist cinema, but ultimately has no real message about the need for revisionism within this particular story – especially since Parr and Henry VIII’s fates to survive and die, respectively, remain the same. If you’re going to rewrite history, at least have the courtesy to make it interesting.
Firebrand was screened as part of the Cannes Film Festival 2023. A UK release date is yet to be announced.
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