Edward II (1991)

Derek Jarman's Edward II is based on a play by Christopher Marlowe. In an exquisite blend of 14th century stripped-down theatrical sets and contemporary details, Jarman evokes a rather enchanting tale about power, love and royal scheming. (Some have compared Edward II's use of anachronisms with Fassbinder's The Niklashausen Journey.) The film is stagy in a very original sense that somehow never ends up being sterile. Distancing, yes, and many layers of distancing, but there is a sort of frenzy that these methods maintain. In one scene, Jarman even lets two lovers say their goodbyes as Annie Lennox croons a version of Everytime we say goodbye - and it works! Edward is the monarch hated by the court because of his lover Gaveston. Gaveston is beaten, exiled - and killed. Jarman uses operatic tools to get across the cruelty involved in this affair. Even though the film is an indictment of anti-gay resentment, it does not present the king as a cozy lover, nor is the lover a very fine person. Tilda Swinton is excellent as Edward's jealous and angered wife. She's involved with a sadistic military officer, Mortimer. Jarman brings out the darkness of this world of romances and plots. I don't know how this film with all its BIG EMOTIONS doesn't feel overwrought and melodramatic. It is as if Jarman never shies away from even the most dramatic exchange of words, and then he augments these exchanges with a visual expression that renders these moments even more - I don't know what else to call them - heartbreaking. The characters may be power-hungry and self-indulgent, but I still care. It wasn't so much Jarman's illustration of eternal power struggles and sinister hypocrisy that arrested me as I was captivated by the visual spell of the movie: its prisons, cavernous corridors and unnerving fashion.