‘Victoria and Abdul’: The hidden story
If your movie preferences run to historical drama, then you might appreciate Stephen Frears' new film, "Victoria and Abdul." Following is the review of the film that I wrote for Spokane Public Radio:
The Buddha supposedly once said that three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon and the truth. Whether he did say it is far less important than what it’s supposed to mean – which, of course, is that sooner later, no matter the obstacle, the truth will out.
That’s especially true today, when charges of fakery on the political scene are as common as Seattle rain clouds. It’s always been true in Hollywood, where historical depictions take liberties with actual fact for the sake of dramatic effect.
And, to be honest, many movie fans believe that Hollywood, at least, can be forgiven. After all, as Hedy Lamarr once said, “I can excuse everything but boredom.” And who, really, wants to sit through a boring movie?
This brings us to “Victoria & Abdul,” the latest film by the great Stephen Frears. Seventy-six years old and still directing, Frears is known for such films as “My Beautiful Launderette,” “The Grifters,” “High Fidelity,” “The Queen” and last year’s “Florence Foster Jenkins.” Through it all, he has proven to be one of the great filmmaker of the past three decades.
Written by Lee Hall, adapted from the book by Shrabani Basu, “Victoria and Abdul” reveals the unusual, real-life friendship between Queen Victoria – who ruled the British empire for 63 years – and Abdul Karim, a lowly clerk who rose to heights unprecedented for an Indian-born commoner.
Chosen to present a medal to the queen for her 1887 Golden Jubilee, Abdul attracts her attention with his heights and good looks (to underscore this, we are told least twice that he is a handsome man). Whatever the reasons, Victoria soon has Abdul appointed her Munshi – or teacher – and guiding her through lessons in the Hindustani language Urdu.
If this isn’t enough to worry her son, Bertie – the Prince of Wales and future King Edward the 7th – it gets worse. The queen houses Abdul and his family in what is little more than a mini-mansion. She has his portrait painted. She and Abdul go on holiday by themselves, scandalizing the whole of Windsor Castle.
It is only when Victoria expresses a desire to confer a knighthood on Abdul that the royal household rebels. And though she backs down, regretfully, she does so in a way that reminds everyone what royal power truly is and just who it is who wields it.
Much of what occurs in Frears’ movie has a basis in fact, though most of the official records were purposely burned by Bertie’s royal decree following Victoria’s death in 1901. Author Basu based his book largely on the real Abdul’s diary – which, of course, was likely a bit self-serving.
Whatever the truth, “Victoria and Abdul” is powered not just by Frears’ steady hand but by the performances both of the Oscar-winning Judi Dench as Victoria and Bollywood star Ali Fazal as Abdul.
And it represents a version of the truth that was hidden for a century but, finally, did manage to find its way into the light. Turns out, not for the first time, the Buddha was right.