The Favourite (2018): The Greek Freak is back with another beautifully odd instalment

The Favourite (2018)
Dir: Yorgos Lanthimos

The Greek Freak is back with another beautifully odd instalment involving leg massages, fisheye lenses and rabbits. The Favourite is an 18^th century All About Eve, where our three central characters each vie for power in the fish bowl royal court. While playing fast and loose with historical accuracy, the superb acting from Olivia Coleman as the frail Queen Anne, the hardened Lady Sarah performed by Rachel Weisz and Emma Stone playing the innocent Abigail, anchor this story of deceit and desperation.

After being sold and abused, Abigail ventures to royal court to plead to her affluent cousin Lady Sarah and close associate of Queen Anne, for work. Once becoming a scullery maid, Lady Sarah begins to take a shine to Abigail.

Lanthimos’ films have always presented themselves in an ice-cold manner of what should be loving relationships while utilising dark sinister tones laced with comedy. His films tend to occupy this peculiar space between utter terror and nervous laughter.

The Favourite though diverts slightly, with screenwriters Tony McNamara and Deborah Davis introducing a lyrical screenplay. Dialogue has always been a comedic tool for Lanthimos, especially in his extraordinary The Lobster where each line is deployed with a monotonous twang. Here however, the script is executed with a poetic like delivery, making the spoken word the character’s greatest weapon more so than any firearm or hurled hardcover.

Due to its operatic grandeur and timestamp, The Favourite naturally compares itself to Sofia Coppola’s sickeningly exuberant Maria Antionette or the clinical beauty of Alexander Sokurov’s Russian Ark.

Yet it has more in common with the maddening, endless corridors of Kubrick’s The Shinning but also of the seminal Danish dogme feature Festen, where a large family celebrating their father’s birthday begin to reveal secrets behind every door of every corridor, before the ultimate reveal in the final act.

And to all the travails that occur during Lanthimos’ period piece, with each character manipulating one another to maintain their aristocracy, to continue their parlour games of duck racing and recreational orange throwing at naked friends (as you do) - their actions end up being as fruitful as the prancing rabbits scampering through Queen Anne’s bed chamber.

Lanthimos’ slow burning drama once again proves he is a master of his craft. Being a pioneer of a Golden Age of Greek cinema, his unique style appears to be in constant flux. Adding new screenwriters, a gorgeous orchestral score from Rachel Barton Pine and ending with a bizarre Lynchian crossfade, they cluster together to imbue a new edge to the Greek director’s signature style.