Corsage

In the opening moments of Corsage, Empress Elisabeth of Austria (Vicky Krieps) is submerged in a bathtub, holding her breathe with her eyes wide open, as her ladies-in-waiting watch on. The image is a strong indication of what’s to come; a woman fighting the pressures around her and testing to see how long she can last.

It’s 1877 and Empress Elisabeth is restless and on the verge of 40 – a woman long past her prime in the 19th century. Desperate to avoid all royal duties written into her contract at birth, she stages public collapses, flirts openly at dinners to run the rumour mill faster, smokes cigarettes while standing in for her royal portraits, and cuts off her hair in a classic meltdown moment. With her ladies by her side, she confidently strides in slow-motion to Camille’s She Was, with the carefully chosen lyrics Go. Go. Go Away. Go. following her every step and side eye.

In amongst her public rebellion, she travels to quench her thirst for freedom. She ventures to England and Bavaria, sharing intimate moments with old lovers, near lovers and even the forefather of the first motion picture, Louis Le Prince – which delivers some wonderfully nostalgic cinematography that highlights and releases the Empress’ inner urges. But in amongst her clawing for freedom and all her odd behaviours in public, is a woman gradually unravelling for real.

Corsage, much like its central character, goes against the grain of its own genre. While based on the real life royal, it comes into its own with its blurring between fact and fiction. Empress Elisabeth famously battled mental health issues, however Corsage takes her down a different path. The film challenges what we expect of a period-piece drama. There is no blossoming affair that saves the Empress from her dreary life. The set design is not exploding with colour or making us salivate over decadent cakes or royal dance parties. An episode of Bridgerton, this is not. The rooms are dull and drab, and their grand scales emphasise Elisabeth’s imprisonment more than anything else. Each frame is masterfully shot by Judith Kaufmann, with some scenes sharing such little movement they could mimic real life oil paintings from its time.

Vicky Krieps is hypnotic as the Empress. A blend of stoic strength, vulnerability, playfulness and sadness – her performance would be Oscar worthy if the Academy could venture outside its own foreign film category once in a while. She brings a fierceness to Marie Kreutzer’s direction and screenplay – and together with Kaufmann’s eye they have flipped a powerfully angry bird to the patriarchy, no matter what the century. This is film about women, by women. And it is this kind of storytelling that we need to guide more female directors and writers into the limelight. All in due time, I know. But in the meantime, I cannot wait to see what Kreutzer does next.

Corsage is in theatres now.