Anonymous the movie

I had forgotten this movie had been released some time ago but when Leslie mentioned it on facebook I decided that I should try to see it. I had not always liked the premise of the film since it maligns the Queen in ways that are truly ugly if you think about it long enough despite the fact that in the script the authors try to compare it to a Greek tragedy. Vanessa Redgrave portrays the aging queen admirably well in this tormented director's version of the Virgin Queen, but the young Elizabeth is not quite so believable when portrayed by Joely Richardson. No portraits of the Virgin Queen ever portray her as beautiful, warm, and expansive in the way that the few glimpses of her youth are seen in this dramatization. The movie is really not about the Queen so much as about the truth of young Will Shakespeare who is a caricature of some Saturday Night Live comedian, take your pick as they all look alike too. Anyone who has ever written a paper for a friend can sympathize a bit with Edward DeVere, who is an accomplished poet and author by nature, and who must find a foil to act as the cover for his own authorship of beautiful poetry and dramas. He tried to protect himself by offering the position and honor to Ben Johnson, a noted playwright with scruples enough to say no to the offer which he cannot refuse, but because of a lengthy conversation with friend actor Will Shakespeare, he soon finds that he does not have to bear that burden after all. Will gladly and willingly jumps in to take credit for all plays that have so far been deemed written by that elusive soul called anonymous. Will is quite capable of pulling off this charade and even manages to learn the identity of the true author to extort more money from him, and together, Edward DeVere and Will form the seedy partnership of author and cover. In this pitiful movie, Will cannot even pen the letters I and E when Johnson tries to expose him. But worse than not being able to claim his own poetry and drama, poor Edward is soon discovered to his chagrin to be the bastard son of the Queen Elizabeth I and worse than that, has even fathered a child with her. (This is fiction, and Hollywood, in which anything goes). Poor Edward, what a fop! Fool that he is, he is a compulsive playwright, is forced into a marriage to a woman for political reasons, in which he ultimately learns that part of those reasons are to place him in line for the crown, so that his own son could and would succeed him. But in Merry Old England where fantasy is only a shadow of reality, DeVere is only capable of finally learning the identity of his own son, rescuing him from death, and finally leaving all his works to Ben Johnson to protect and produce for him. What a movie! What a story line! It reflects Hollywood more than anything else...as it confesses probably more inside secrets about producers, directors, actresses, and actors than can be dreamt under the sun. Oh, the line how can one love the moon after one has known the sun is really so funny that you almost wonder why anyone would say it in a film...the visual effects are quite good, the bear baiting is as cruel as Henry VIII himself, so what can one expect of the English who are after all bred to endure this kind of scandal except that nobody should believe any of this concocted tale. Elizabeth I was homely enough, plainly ugly enough, that it is quite perfectly reasonable to imagine that she had few suitors who would want to bed her. Turning her into a beauty is more farfetched than believing that she is as wanton and wild as this film would have you believe. I like the old gal! I like it that she held her head high, with sunken deepset eyes, crooked nose, and a sure sign of how like Anne Boleyn she could be. She is her father's daughter though, willing and able to kill not only her first cousin but also her ill begotten fictionalized son. Surely, had she had all those children, she would have found a way to legitimize them to inherit the crown. Quit dreaming! you who want to believe in DeVere....after all, his lot is never to have fame for his works...Again, those of us who have also likewise helped a friend out once or twice know the feeling well...We always know who the true author really is!