TBT: Elizabeth R (1971)

We’ve talked about this series before. We’ve praised Glenda Jackson for her portrayal of Queen Elizabeth I. But we have yet to do a proper deep-dive into Elizabeth R (1971) — the BBC miniseries that aired on PBS Masterpiece Theatre and was the gateway drug for me and countless other fans of 16th-century costume and history.

What is so great about this old series? Let me sum up: Six well-written, well-acted episodes that tell the story of Elizabeth’s ascension and reign in a factual and dramatic fashion, plus hundreds of costumes that meticulously recreate portraits of Queen Elizabeth. If there’s anything wrong with it, well, I guess you could complain that it’s on video not film, most of it is shot with tight interiors, and a total 510 minutes is a little short for over 50 years of history, plus one woman, even the great Glenda, kind of stretches credulity at looking both 16 and 70 (she was in her 30s at the time). But that’s all you can nitpick, fuckers! Otherwise, this miniseries is the gold standard against which all historical TV and most historical movies should be judged. Here’s why…

It’s all about the accuracy and research. Being Frock Flicks, I’ll focus on the costumes, but the history itself is spot-on, as various interviews with Glenda Jackson testify to. In a BAFTA guide, Jackson is quoted as saying:

“Elizabeth R was the BBC at its best. Everything was very thorough in those days. I was taught how to write Elizabeth’s signature, I was taught to ride side-saddle. I was even taught how to fire a bow and arrow.”

Senses of Cinema reported:

“For her performance in the six-part BBC television serial Elizabeth R (1971) Jackson did her due diligence by going through several biographies of the Queen. This research is on display in the final scene of the series: originally written with the dying Elizabeth clutching her sceptre, Jackson told the director “we can’t do this” and produced an account of the Queen sucking her thumb. In this moment of vulnerability, ‘the part came to together.'”

And Glenda Jackson was committed to the accuracy of the costuming too, having her head shaved (as Bette Davis did years before). She said in the L.A. Times:

“I didn’t see any point in attempting to convince people that I was trying to play another character when the top six inches of my forehead would wrinkle in an unnatural way because it wasn’t skin but plastic. I was told a) it would never grow back or b) it would grow back curly. Neither of those were true statements.”

For the later episodes, she spent hours having makeup and prosthetics applied for Elizabeth’s aging face — there’s some interesting analysis on The Makeup Gallery. I don’t know if this is as unconvincing as Keith Michell’s aging in The Six Wives of Henry VIII (1970). Maybe this is because Elizabeth is also wearing the elaborate white face / rouge / painted brows to create the “mask of youth” that was emphasized in her portraits from the 1590s on. It’s an intentionally artificial look and works as such.

According to “Elizabeth I and the Life of Visual Culture” by Homer B. Petty in the anthology Rule, Britannia!: The Biopic and British National Identity, the same portraits are used or referred to in most biopics of Queen Elizabeth I. This didn’t start with Elizabeth R, but the miniseries does use at least six of the most popular ones: Elizabeth when a princess, Darnley, Siena, Phoenix, Armada, and Ditchley. I would add that this TV series does a more meticulous job at recreating portraits than any other biopic, particularly the Darnley, Phoenix, Armada, and Ditchley. Looking up close at these episodes, I can see where some shortcuts were taken for budget reasons, but the overall historical effect is not sacrificed.

So let’s go chronologically through the six 90-minute episodes and look at the main costumes for QEI. I’m going to skip over the other characters because, while the costumes are generally of the same quality, I don’t feel like there’s much specific to point out. And I’ve already noted that this series has the most accurate versions of Mary Queen of Scots‘ wardrobe onscreen too ;)

 

Episode 1, “The Lion’s Cub”

The series begins during Edward VI’s reign in 1549 with the arrest of Thomas Seymour for treason, which casts suspicion on cast on Elizabeth as well. She’s supposed to be a teenager here, which 30-something Glenda Jackson gives a valiant shot at — and she’s shown with her hair down for the first 20 minutes to emphasize the character’s youth.

During part of the interrogation about Seymour and when she hears of his execution, she wears a red gown reminiscent of the 1546-1547 portrait attributed to William Scrots. She wears this again during another interrogation, when she’s sent to the Tower of London, and in the final scene of the episode.

For her sister Mary’s coronation, she wears white and has her hair down. Now Mary, as the anointed queen wearing her crown, has her hair down, so fine, but it seems that Elizabeth’s hair and wearing all white emphasize her young, virginal state. The ermine fur on her sleeves reminds everyone she is of royal blood too.

At the end of the episode, she wears this gown with a rather shitty French hood when she’s accosted by Philip of Spain.

There’s one other outfit Elizabeth wears at various points in this episode, a fur-trimmed loose gown over a burgundy kirtle. This loose gown was a popular fashion in the 1550s across Europe  and called by various names, such as ropa in Spain and zimmara in Italy. It continued to be fashionable through the early 17th century.

 

Episode 2, “The Marriage Game”

Queen Elizabeth I’s coronation isn’t shown, and the second episode throws us right into some juicy politics circa 1559, which is going to involve the delightful Robert Hardy as Robert Dudley, who she’ll raise to Earl of Leicester in due course. She wears the red “princess” dress at first, hinting at her youth and inexperience as queen. Then she gets a new ensemble in bright green velvet and damask. It’s another loose gown, but more richly decorated, she’s wearing jewels, and her hair is in a fashionable style. She’s set to command her Privy Council and wears this throughout the episode.

Then she rewears that burgundy loose gown outfit from the last ep, but now with tons of jewelry and a fancy hairstyle.

As Elizabeth gets more serious about her role and flexes her muscle against her advisors, she wears this more formal, structured gown in a very pale green and trimmed with jewels and gold. The colors tread between virginal and fecund, but the style is severe.

To impress the French ambassador, she wears what she calls an Italian gown. I’m not sure why that line of dialog is thrown in, other than to make her seem cosmopolitan in her wardrobe. Because the dress is not especially “Italian” in style.

Much of the episode focuses on Elizabeth and Dudley’s romance. Which is addressed in probably the most historically accurate manner in Elizabeth R than in any other biopic, and I say this having read a stack of Queen Elizabeth biographies, plus a shelf or two of general histories of the period. And it’s beautiful, delicious, bittersweet, and absolutely wonderful to watch! There’s a scene where the pair go shooting that’s just adorable.

 

Episode 3, “Shadow in the Sun”

This one opens in 1572 with news of the St. Bartholomew’s Day massacre in Paris sending Queen Elizabeth’s court into “mourning.” Her first gown is modeled after the 1583 Siena sieve portrait. But the French Duke of Anjou is pursuing marriage with Elizabeth, so mourning doesn’t last for long.

Her next new gown is white with blue and trimmed in pearls, in the same basic style as the pale green one.

There’s more re-wears, but they get interesting. The green velvet robe is worn over an orange damask gown, which makes it look quite different and equally grand.

She wears the Italian gown again and adds a pink loose gown (which previously she’d been wearing in bedroom scenes over naught but a smock).

When the Duke of Anjou at last leaves Elizabeth’s court, she first wears the Phoenix gown — formal, exquisitely decorated, rather dark, yet symbolic as she may burn but will rise from the ashes.

 

Episode 4, “Horrible Conspiracies”

With thoughts of marriage essentially over, Queen Elizabeth solidifies into the strictly controlled image conveyed in her portraiture, and Glenda Jackson has aging makeup rather skillfully applied starting here to help show the progress of time. She wears the Phoenix gown a lot in this episode.

She re-wears some surcotes, Mary Queen of Scots gets a lot of screentime, and then we see Elizabeth in this black gown with embroidered sleeves.

The Darnley gown is what she wears to argue with Walsingham about MQoS’s supposed plot against her.

I’ve been ignoring the many scenes of Elizabeth in a smock and loose gown or even just a smock because, honestly, big white shirts aren’t exciting even when done in a correct historical fashion. But I have to mention this one scene where she’s having an argument in bed and wearing such perfect headgear — a blackworked coif and a lace-trimmed head rail.

 

Episode 5, “The Enterprise of England”

This episode opens a month after Mary Stuart’s execution, so in March 1587, and Elizabeth is wearing a black gown in mourning. This gown has a wheel farthingale and the huge sleeves fashionable in the 1580s.

Soon enough, she’s out of mourning and dealing with Francis Drake’s privateering — and Philip of Spain’s impending Armada. Thus, the Armada gown, which she wears throughout this episode

Also in this episode, she wears another grand wheel farthingale gown, this one in red with silver trims.

Then there’s her outfit for the Tilbury speech. As I noted in my women wearing armor article, Elizabeth R doesn’t have the most historically accurate costume in this scene. The queen should be wearing a white dress and a breastplate. Instead, the queen merely wears an armored gorget with a dark-colored outfit.

 

Episode 6, “Sweet England’s Pride”

The final episode opens with the camera focused on a curly red hairpiece, then pulls back to show one of Elizabeth’s maids fussing with her gown while the Queen reads a letter from the Earl of Essex. Thus, we’re in the late 1590s, and QEI is old, and it shows.

Her next outfit is even more ostentatious — a recreation of the Ditchley portrait. Essex is wearing a full white suit, he’s such a flatterer, but she’s also succumbed to his charms. They both wear these white outfits in the same scenes throughout this episode, mirroring and teasing each other. Until the end, after he’s executed, and she gives one last grand speech.

At a heated Privy Council meeting, Elizabeth is armored in a two-tone gown with a jeweled stomacher and bronze skirt. This becomes her go-to in this episode for the most serious conversations.

The very final scene has Queen Elizabeth in a surcote with jewels and her hair styled, on death’s door. While not an elaborate outfit, the hair, in particular, is reminiscent of the Rainbow portrait

 

 

Is Glenda Jackson your one true queen? What’s your favorite costume in Elizabeth R?