Mary, Queen of Scots (1971)

I’ve mentioned this one a few times as having a highly romanticized plot and very pretty, generically historical costumes. Mary Queen of Scots (1971) starring Vanessa Redgrave does stand as one of the more complete tellings of the tragic queen’s story, even if the details play fast and loose with actual history. Margaret Furse received her final Academy Award nomination for Best Costume Design with this film, and the costumes, like the script, give a basic historical silhouette while messing around with the details.

There are two big problems I find with this movie — both of which are repeated in some measure by Mary of Scotland (1936) and Mary Queen of Scots (2018). First, and most importantly, this film spends a good third of the story focused on Queen Elizabeth I. So for a film titled “Mary Queen of Scots” it’s kind of misleading. This is rather like if the musical Hamilton had 50 minutes of songs about George Washington instead of just two tunes. Sure, Elizabeth is relevant to Mary’s life but more so at the end than the whole time, and why not tell Mary’s life from her point of view? She only saw Elizabeth as a distant figure through letters. Keep Liz off-stage, an unseen force toying with Mary’s life from afar. I shouldn’t have to repeat it, but no, they never met, not once and certainly not twice as in this flick!

The other problem is framing Mary’s relationship with James Hepburn, 4th Earl of Bothwell, as a romance, much the less a life-long pining on her part. The only “proof” of her romantic feeling for him were the Casket Letters where the queen admitted to colluding with Bothwell in the murder of her second husband Henry Stuart, Lord Darnley. Of course, those letters were produced after the fact by her enemies, including James Stewart, Earl of Moray, who’d already forced her to abdicate so he could rule Scotland as regent for Mary’s son, the infant James VI. Most major biographers have dissected the surviving 16th-century copies of these letters (the originals being long lost) and found them to be inconsistent, inconclusive, and suspect.

Several months after Darnley’s murder, Bothwell abducted the queen as she was traveling, and once she was at his mercy (and most likely raped by him), she gave in to his plans. At the most, there may have been some conspiring at the end, but there’s no evidence that marrying Bothwell was Mary’s prime goal. Her first two husbands had been Catholics, like Mary, were her same age or younger, and highly cultured. Bothwell was a Protestant, older military man. He was taking advantage of her, and she disavowed him as soon as she could. For that matter, during the English inquiries into the Casket Letters held from 1568-9, Thomas Howard, 4th Duke of Norfolk, schemed to marry Mary Stuart, since Bothwell had fled Scotland and nobody seemed to give a crap about him at that point (Norfolk eventually got himself executed for treason by QEI, fwiw).

Back to this movie! It covers events from 1560 during Mary’s final months in France as queen, married to Francis II, through her return to Scotland, her marriage to Darnley, the birth of James, her abdication and escape to England, and her execution in 1587. Vanessa Redgrave was about 34 at the time of this film, and Mary was 18 to 44 during the film’s span, so a bit of a stretch. The final scenes in England are more appropriately aged than the earlier ones look young. Though the story covers two decades, there’s no particular change in fashion styles either.

What I do like about the costumes is that Mary’s don’t fall into the typical movie/TV cliches, so we don’t see a lot of black dresses and no heart-shaped caps at all! She arrives in Scotland with lovely silk gowns, richly trimmed in gold and embroidery, much like the 1562 inventory describes her wardrobe of gowns in white, crimson, yellow, blue, pink, green, and black.

Much of her clothes were brought with her from France, but she also had items made for her in Edinburgh. The Scots upper-class wore fashions quite similar to the English at the time, but English court fashion had been influenced by French styles since the days of Anne Boleyn so there was crossover. Even during her captivity in England, Mary wore stylish clothing that she had shipped from her castles in Scotland and supplemented with her allowance as a dowager Queen of France. Let’s look at them chronologically in the movie.

 

 

Mary, Queen of Scots Costumes in France

The movie opens with Mary and Francis (who is also too old; he should be 16) running around the Château de Chenonceau. He’s wearing puffy pants and a shirt, while she’s wearing essentially a nightgown, like they’re just two romantic kids, not the King and Queen of France, LOL.

Francis gets a horrible headache as a precursor for his upcoming death, and his mom, Catherine de’ Medici, threatens Mary, while she’s still hanging around in her nightie. Her Guise uncles get political at her.

Late the next night, Francis goes wild and jumps on a horse, even though everyone’s saying he’s sick. He goes off and will drop dead soon. This gives us a glimpse at Mary’s first dress:

If I’m feeling generous, I’d say someone looked at this portrait and was aiming for this hair. What’s missing is the center part and a bit of height on the sides and back, and I’m not a fan of the little curls Redgrave has around her ears.

Meanwhile, Mary’s half-brother James Stewart has arrived, along with Bothwell, to tell her that her mother, Mary of Guise, is dead. Now Francis does fall from that horse and dies. Thus, mourning!

This is a slightly clunky reproduction of the famous en deuil blanc, white mourning veil, that Mary wore at the time. This is the one time the movie goes for a pointed heart-shape cap and it doesn’t quite work. The veiling is good though!

Since she has nothing left in France, Mary decides to return to Scotland (which she left at age 5), and she gets a letter from Queen Elizabeth asking Mary to renounce her claim on the English throne. Hahhahah no.

 

 

Mary, Queen of Scots Costumes in Scotland

What do you wear to arrive in the country you’ve ruled since you were a baby but have never seen as an adult? How about something faaaaabulous that really stands out and says “I AM THE QUEEN.”

She’s met by a bunch of Scots on horse, and her half-brother James, who escorts her to Holyrood Palace. Mary realizes James is patronizing AF and tries to call him out on it since, y’know, she’s the queen here.

Underneath that surcote, she’s wearing this simple white dress. Along with the last black dress she wore in France, it’s some of the best gowns in terms of historical fashion that she wears in the movie. They have the typical mid 16th-century cone-shaped bodice, full skirts (but not necessarily over a farthingale), moderately wide sleeves that taper to the wrist, and a neckline filled in with a sheer partlet topped by a narrow ruff. Most of the women’s gowns in this movie are remarkably closed up at the neckline, either with partlets or in a high-necked doublet fashion, and always topped with ruffs. This is nice to see because it’s something very common in period portraits and images, but sometimes movies/TV want to use a less-common open neckline to sex up the era.

Next we see Mary riding on the beach with Lord Darnley, and they’re already super into each other. Darnley has been sent by Queen Elizabeth, which isn’t true, of course. It was his mother, Margaret Douglas, Countess of Lennox, who had been wrangling for this marriage, while Elizabeth was so opposed, she sent the countess to the Tower of London in 1566.

There are reports of Mary dressing in men’s clothing and walking around Edinburgh with Darnley before their marriage. She also dressed in men’s clothing with her ladies-in-waiting at masquerade banquets, and in 1565, she wore men’s clothes to see her army as they went into battle. So this outfit tracks, and remember the doublet, because she’ll wear it a few more times in the film.

Later, Mary interrupts David Rizzio and Darnley canoodling — Darnley hides and overhears her debate marrying him. Mary’s wearing this brocade loose gown, and while I can’t see much of it, I do appreciate the attempt. The fabric and cut are much better than the poly lace nonsense she wore as dress-down garb in France.

Compare with these several types of loose gowns illustrated on the cover of the original Patterns of Fashion 3 by Janet Arnold:

Much as in life, Mary’s decision to make it official with Darnley is done pretty quickly. She announces this to her half-brother James, who is pissy about it. Doesn’t help that she makes Rizzio her chief minister too, as if to rub it in (and give the movie audience more explanation why James, et. al., will murder Rizzio later).

Compare with this hairstyle, which is decorated in a similar fashion but the center part and slight fullness at each side are far more typical of the period.

This flick isn’t doing any real portrait repro costumes, so this is as close as we get. That black and white gown is kinda sorta like this 1570 portrait that, at one time, was thought to be Mary Queen of Scots.

And now we have Mary and Darnley’s wedding, which, because it’s a movie, they’re wearing white. Aside from the fact that white weddings are a Victorian idea, Mary Stuart actually wore black for her wedding to Darnley, as a sign this was her second marriage. But there’s some great jewelry here!

That double puffed sleeve style is just not really like the 1560s. I wonder if it’s a wild misinterpretation of something like this, where the lower “puffed” sleeves are actually sheer oversleeves that cover a fitted sleeve.

The next day, Mary sends for Bothwell so he can be jealous and they can argue. Stop trying to make this romance happen. While I have no idea why Vanessa Redgrave is a blond Mary Stuart in this film, at least the costume designer played to her strengths and put her in this gorgeous blue silk with gold. Too bad she’s missing a petticoat and has deflated sleeves.

Again, what is up with those sleeves? A straight sleeve is more common.

Even when puffy sleeves come in later, they don’t look so floppy.

OK, let’s talk about partlets for a minute.

They’re a fun little 16th-c. accessory to fill in a neckline for warmth or decoration (or both). Heavier partlets made of solid velvet or wool tended to be worn over a gown, like this:

While lightweight partlets made of linen or more decorative partlets made of sheer fabric with embroidery and other embellishments were tucked into the top of the gown, like these:

This movie primarily shows decorative, highly trimmed partlets, but can’t decide how to wear them correctly. We’ll see this again with Queen Elizabeth’s costumes.

Meanwhile, Mary’s pregnant and pretty much over Darnley, who’s shown himself to be a spoiled brat and a drunken lout. They argue a couple times, including when she’s out riding with her ladies-in-waiting.

At the private dinner that becomes Rizzio’s murder scene, a heavily pregnant Mary wears this teal-blue silk gown that looks rather 1530s Italian. Except for the do-rag on her head, which looks very 1970s.

After that night, the unhappy couple turn to Bothwell for help (which makes no sense, but go ahead, movie, make shit up as you do). Mary gives birth to James at Bothwell’s Hermitage Castle (James was born in Edinburgh Castle). She also meets Bothwell’s wife there and is somehow surprised that he’s married even though, historically, she attended the wedding.

Mary and Darnley make a show of peace with her half-brother James, while also presenting baby James to the public. Mary rewears that brown doublet, now with an armor breastplate.

Again with baby James, who is dressed appropriately for a royal baby! Mary and Darnley argue again, he wants to fuck her, she drugs his wine and fucks Bothwell instead. Gross and historically inaccurate.

This leads to the Kirk o’ Field plot to kill Darnley, which the movie shows as Bothwell’s idea with Mary knowing about. She runs off with Bothwell, they’re married, but the Scottish lords capture her and force her to abdicate. Her half-brother James gives her the choice of death or exile and thus escorts her to the English border with her lady-in-waiting Mary Seton — this one detail, that Seton accompanied her to England, is the most accurate bit here FWIW.

 

 

Mary, Queen of Scots Costumes in England

Mary’s been over the border in Carlisle for a while and arranged for a meeting with Elizabeth. Can’t see much of her outfit, but what’s visible is fine. The black velvet and gold trim show her royal status.

If that velvet cap were less of a bag on the back of her head and more of a bonnet on the top of her head, she’d resemble this actual portrait of Mary, Queen of Scots.

Mary and Elizabeth talk and argue. Elizabeth accuses Mary of Darnley’s death and says she can’t leave for France. They’re dressed similarly, showing how equal they are or should be, but never will be again.

From here on, Mary is a prisoner, and she’s visually aged with washed-out makeup and her hair covered in caps and hoods. The headgear is quite nice from a historical point of view!

Mary moved to Fotheringhay Castle, and she wears another black hood that has a proper historical shape, plus it’s worn over a correct white cap.

This style of hood was worn from at least the 1530s through the end of the century by women of all ages. In black velvet or silk worn with jewels, it could be fashionable, or worn with plain garb it could signify mourning or piety. On an older woman, it does look more austere.

But it can look fashionable on a younger woman.

Though I do question why this film didn’t go with the obvious MQoS repro of the lace caps and veils. Maybe they thought that would make her look too fancy in this part of the story?

Certainly, Mary’s drab brown wool gown and stark black hood with only a white cap and ruff as decoration are in contrast with Elizabeth’s bright green outfit at their final fictional meeting. Elizabeth threatens Mary with the Casket Letters (which were made public at least 15 years earlier), but Mary rejects a plea deal.

Mary Seaton helps her mistress prepare for the execution as the queen apparently does makeup (???) and put on this crappy blonde wig. Yes, she wore a wig by this point because her famously red hair was thin and falling out from illness, but I refer you to the previous period illustrations because this just looks like a modern “granny” wig.

I do like Seaton’s French hood though. No, it’s not all that too tall — they could stick up a bit (it’s the straight-up backwards-visor look we complain about). The shape is accurate and a decent attempt was made at showing the layers that go into the headdress.

For the execution, Mary removes her black overgown to reveal her red “I am a Catholic martyr” gown. In my comparison of this scene onscreen, I rated pointed out that this design is more 1580s in style.

This is the only open-necked gown she wears in the film, probably to make it look ‘easy’ for the execution. But the period depiction of the event doesn’t go that far.

 

 

Mary, Queen of Scots Queen Elizabeth’s Costumes

Glenda Jackson had just portrayed Queen Elizabeth in the BBC’s fucking amazing miniseries Elizabeth R (1971), winning two Emmys. So she was the obvious and perfect choice to play Elizabeth here, almost simultaneously it seems. She’s given tons of screentime and chews up poor Vanessa Redgrave in their scenes together — which seems to be the point.

Elizabeth is shown as the aggressive, bullish, almost manly queen, while Mary is played as flighty, romantic, and incredibly feminine. As a Not Just the Tudors podcast episode about Mary Queen of Scots on film pointed out, pitting the two queens against each other ends up with deeply anti-feminist plotline showing how women can’t succeed in power. A woman has to either act like a man, giving up love, romance, sex, and motherhood, and even then, she has no secure lineage; or she has to allow herself to be lead by men and go astray. There’s no option for women to be whole people, wrestling with issues of power and personal life, without it becoming a judgement on their gender. This movie plays it out the same way as the 1936 and 2018 movies do, always playing the “rival queens” game, where no woman can win. sigh

Queen Elizabeth is first shown in a romantic situation, relaxing with her favourite, Robert Dudley, 1st Earl of Leicester. But this image is deceptive because she’s discussing the situation with her cousin Mary Stuart, and then they learn that Dudley’s wife has died suspiciously. Any romance this queen is party to takes a backseat to business and is touched by scandal.

What’s more, I’m astounded that we first see her with her hair down, and not just while canoodling on a pleasure barge, but when discussing matters of state with William Cecil!

In her next scene, Elizabeth has learned that Mary’s French husband is dead and she’s returning to Scotland. Elizabeth refuses passage, plus she’s playing both sides with James Stewart.

If this was the 1580s, I might buy it.

Later, Elizabeth is outdoors at sport when she learns that Dudley is innocent of his wife’s death. He wants to marry her, but she refuses and instead suggests marrying him off to Mary Stuart.

Reminds me of these etchings of Elizabeth and her ladies at the hunt:

Elizabeth declares that no English Catholic can marry Mary, and she offers Henry Stuart, Lord Darnley, thus rewriting history because his family were English Catholics. She’s also wearing a more 1570s-80s gown, but just for a hot second.

As she continues to conspire over a Darnley-Mary marriage, she’s wearing what I swear is that same puffy-sleeve yellow dress but with a embroidered partlet tacked over the top.

Sending Darnley off to Scotland, we get a full view of that blue dress, now with a blue hat.

When her spies tell her of the plot to murder Rizzio, Elizabeth is wearing a green velvet surcote over that yellow puffy-sleeved gown. I can always appreciate a 16th-century mix-and-match wardrobe.

There’s the obligatory anguish when Elizabeth hears the news of Mary’s baby.

When Darnley is killed, Elizabeth insists her court wears mourning “because the Scottish court does not.” Which is not true because there are records of Mary buying black fabric for mourning after Darnley’s death. But I fucking ADORE this black dress on Glenda Jackson, it’s badass, even if the faux-partlet is a very modern fabric and that brooch looks like a starfish.

Once Mary is in England, the two queens meet. While at first it looks like they’re both wearing all-black, Elizabeth is actually wearing green and black with gold.

Mary is shown getting older in prison, but Elizabeth is also show getting old. She has thin, pale hair under her lace cap, though she has more makeup than Mary got. Cecil is manufacturing the Babington Plot to entrap Mary.

Elizabeth debates Mary’s fate while wearing this fur and tapestry coat. The fabric is an OK attempt at the 16th century, but that collar is totally 1960s. Finally though, her hair is getting moderately close to the 1570s.

But I have seen this:

Pity because her ladies-in-waiting are wearing nicely historical gowns and headgear.

For her final meeting with Mary, Queen of Scots, Elizabeth wears this elaborate green outfit. The fur, hat, gloves, and the idea of the prints give an impression of luxury to contrast with Mary’s reduced circumstances. But that green floral is super duper modern!

After Mary is executed, her prayer book is fictionally delivered to Elizabeth, who sits alone, in a big black gown and giant open ruff, on her throne.

 

 

Mary, Queen of Scots Other Women’s Costumes

There’s a few other women worth noting, costume-wise. Two of the famous Four Marys are included in this film: Fleming and Seaton follow Mary back from France to Scotland. Mary Beaton and Mary Livingston are never mentioned :(

Mary Seaton, while they’re still in France, gets a decent attempt at a French hood, mimicking the layers that make up the hat.

Both ladies go riding with the queen, wearing suitable doublet outfits and smart hats.

Mary Fleming’s hood isn’t quite as nice here, but she gets a rich velvet gown for Rizzio’s dinner-murder.

I already mentioned her black hood above, and Mary Seaton is also wearing a lovely black damask surcote at the queen’s execution.

And another random woman is Bothwell’s wife, Lady Jean Gordon, who doesn’t play much of a part except for Mary to be surprised about her. Oh look, she’s wearing tartan, she must be Scottish!

 

 

Mary, Queen of Scots Lord Darnley’s Costumes

Henry Stuart was 19 when he married Mary, Queen of Scots, and 21 when he died, so Timothy Dalton was maybe a bit closer in age to his character, at 25, than Vanessa Redgrave. I think he played this whiny little bitch accurately, FWIW, and Darnley was supposed to be a pretty boy. The first time he’s introduced, the costume helps him live up to that reputation. Leaving England, he wears an elaborate white and gold suit.

Again, this film isn’t into portrait repros, but Dalton does get the pretty youth part down.

His one slightly rough-and-tumble outfit, when Darnley and Mary ride on the beach.

There’s a telling scene with Darnley and Rizzio in bed, which was probably a bit shocking for the time the movie was made. There’s plenty of rumors about each of them, and I suspect the scene was included mostly to show why Darnley will be a bad husband and thus Bothwell will be Mary’s “true love.” eyeroll

At the wedding, Darnley wears a white suit (just looks grey in this screencap) with gold trim, and I’m not sure if it’s the same as the one he wore in England. Swap out the sleeves, add those gold studs?

Later on, when Mary’s pregnant, Darnley spies on Mary and Rizzio and then whines at them. He follows Mary out riding to warn her of a plot at court.

Darnley’s outfits are highly decorated, as appropriate for a gentleman of his wealth and status.

Even though he was in on the plot, Darnley grieves Rizzio’s murder.

But there’s nothing much more for Lord Darnley. He has the pox, which won’t get ’em because Bothwell’s potting will.

 

 

Mary, Queen of Scots David Rizzio’s Costumes

Rizzio was a musician and private secretary to Mary, Queen of Scots. He entered her service around 1561 after she returned to Scotland, but in this movie, she’s introduced to him by her Guise uncles in France. They say he’s a spy for the Pope, which, uh, OK. He was definitely Catholic and Italian, things that did not endear him to the Scots. He was reputedly an ugly little man who loved fine clothes, and the movie does give him some smart outfits.

When Mary tells her half-brother that she’s marrying Darnley, Rizzio is there, assuming a higher status as her councilor, and wearing a fancy new suit.

But he’s doomed to a murder-mystery dinner where he’s the victim, and at least a dozen dudes are the suspected murderers.

 

 

Mary, Queen of Scots Other Men’s Costumes

Bothwell and James Stewart don’t get very interesting costumes, IMO. This is a quick shot of when they arrive in France, probably their fanciest.

Robert Dudley gets two outfits of note. When he’s first shown in the pleasure barge with Queen Elizabeth, he wears a suit made of a grey tonal brocade that has a really good period-esque feel. I bet it’s some weird polyester upholstery stuff because I’ve found something similar in the past. Felt terrible to the touch but was remarkably close to designs found in portraits.

Likewise, he wears this ostentatious black and white print doublet in Scotland when he’s watching Dudley and Mary fall in love. It’s one quick scene, but such a striking costume.

 

 

OK, have at it! What do you think of this Mary, Queen of Scots movie?