The Lion in Winter

Christmas of 1183 was full of palace intrigue. Family, amirite?!

Scene from “The Lion in Winter,” 1968

Today we are watching a clip from the 1968 historical drama (and definitely a Christmas movie!) The Lion in Winter, starring Peter O’Toole as King Henry II and Katharine Hepburn as his estranged wife and queen, Eleanor of Aquitaine. Directed by Anthony Harvey, the film earned an Academy Award for “Best Original Score,” a lovely bit of work by John Barry, and another for “Best Screenplay” for the wit-sharp adaption of James Goldman’s stage-to-screen play. It also netted Hepburn her third “Best Actress” Oscar, tying that year with Barbara Streisand for her work in Funny Girl (1969 was the only year that the Academy has ever awarded a Best Actress tie). Peter O’Toole won a “Best Actor” Golden Globe for his efforts and the movie won “Best Picture” at the Globes that year. The movie marked the big-screen debut for Anthony Hopkins (playing son Richard the Lionheart) and Timothy Dalton (Philip II, King of France), both turning in first-class performances.

The plot of Lion in Winter centers around the 1183 Christmas family gathering at King Henry’s pad in Chinon. Much like the familial sentiments of the gathered group, the castle is cold and drafty. Dogs roam the hallways, chickens and pigs share space with disheveled servants in the hay-strewn courtyard, and dirt covers the floors in some of the grandest rooms. This is not a fancy, delicate family, the Plantagenets. One has the sense that the more elegant Queen Eleanor might have taken a hand in sprucing the place up, but she has been imprisoned for the last ten years, having plotted treasonous overthrow of the crown. Still, despite her more gentile appearance, it is clear that Eleanor is every bit the equal of Henry in rough-and-tumble political contrivance and inflicting pointed, crushing verbal wounds.

Feeling the weight of his years and concerned about his legacy, Henry has called a Christmas court to gather his three surviving sons: the ambitious oldest Richard, the silent tactician Geoffery (played by John Castle) and John (Nigel Terry), a sniveling simpleton but the favorite of the king. Eleanor has been released from prison for the occasion and enters in regal fashion, as Cleopatra might, on a barge. 18-year-old King Philip from France has also arrived, demanding a resolution promised via treaty between his now-deceased father and Henry in which the English crown’s heir will marry his sister, Alais (Jane Merrow), whom Henry has taken for a mistress. Breaking the terms of the treaty would be costly, as it came with a bequeathal of an important parcel of land, the Vexin, that Henry wants to retain. At the same time, Henry very much wants to keep Alais for himself, and has privately promised her that he will do just that. But any plans Henry had of bellowing roughshod over Philip would soon be dashed—the young French king is every bit the strategizing and manipulative equal of his English counterpart.

While John is King Henry’s choice of heir, Queen Eleanor favors Richard. At times throughout the movie, we wonder if the selection of a favorite is even all that important to either or simply a means of inflicting further damage between two fervid adversaries, lovers-turned-enemies who can’t yet completely abandon their passion of the past. Likewise, the sons at times are allies or rivals, at each others’ throats under the puppeteering of their powerful parents and striking blows against their mother or father as they can. Eleanor at one point confesses to Henry that she doesn’t much like their children, and yet we later see her rushing to their aid. Henry likewise wrestles with the hard decisions that would damn one or more of his sons at the expense of another, even for the sake of his own selfish ends. Like many families, it’s complicated, Christmas get-togethers fraught with the usual tensions.

Hepburn in particular takes on her role with wonderful ferocity. Eleanor is a prickly woman, replaced and aging, her insecurities on full display in unguarded moments. And yet she knows how to wield the power that she still has to her own advantageous ends; or when she can’t find advantage, at least she commands a cudgel to batter her tormentor. In conjunction with a wonderful script, her deliveries are as equally cutting as they are bitterly amusing. She is at times an awful or wonderful mother, and at times cruelly calculating, pitiable or fiercely admirable. In the end, she’s all of it, and we can’t help but marvel at the trip. In O’Toole she has a larger-than-life foil that is every bit up to the challenge of meeting her intensity. They are a joy to watch together as they battle over the future of England, secondary to their own battle to annihilate each other.

As for the rest of the twisting and ingenious plot, I strongly encourage you to watch The Lion in Winter on your own. It’s available streaming in a bunch of places.

Finally, I want to take the opportunity to wish you, my friends who come and read my little blurbs, the fondest of holiday wishes. Whether scheming to thwart the plans of high-born family members, chilling in your own peaceful cocoon, hanging out with friends and family, or some other variation, I hope it’s enjoyable for you. Thanks for being here and sharing your time with me.

xoxoxo,

Martini

Roger Ebert: The Lion in Winter, 11/4/68

Wikipedia: The Lion in Winter

TCM: The Lion in Winter

From the Front Row: "Blu-Ray Review | The Lion in Winter | 1968" Mattie Lucas, 3/26/18