PRODUC T I ON . SPENCER
Story of the broken princess Diana, as imagined in Spencer, is a remarkably visceral exploration of the woman behind the image. DOP Claire Mathon explains how she used close-ups and film stock to capture her fragility
WORDS. Chelsea Fearnley IMAGES. Various
D irector Pablo Larraín’s decision to make a fictionalised account of Princess Diana’s choice to end her marriage to Prince Charles and leave the British Royal Family was certainly an interesting one. Isn’t Season 5 of The Crown about to get into all that? Surely the decidedly mixed reviews of Naomi Watts in Diana made another big- screen treatment something of a poisoned chalice? But Spencer , a spectral and quite extraordinary film, might not be for fans of the Netflix juggernaut or devotees of royal intrigue. In fact, the filmmakers endeavoured to spare us such ceremony, with the 1991 Sandringham Christmas revealing ten years of accumulated frustration and pain. Spencer takes us directly into the stubborn mindset of the forlorn princess, as the watchful gaze of the in-laws bears down upon her. All Diana wants is to be alone, and the audience accompanies her on this stifling journey. Whether it’s an aimless trip through the countryside, or an incident in a bathroom as she delays turning up “Spencer might not be for fans of the Netflix juggernaut or devotees of royal intrigue”
for dinner, it’s an uncomfortable, but uncannily realistic watch. The relationship with food is a desperately sad one, as luxurious pastries and cakes are placed under her nose, with the world blissfully unaware of her eating disorder and the anguish it inflicts. Her conversations are with staff under employ – chefs, butlers and dressers. Prince Charles and the Queen are paid nothing better than lip service and minimal eye contact, while more screen time is given to her children. But mostly, Spencer is just Diana, with her face warmly enveloped by DOP Claire Mathon. Such a project wasn’t intimidating for Mathon, having already achieved Cannes accolades for Portrait of a Lady on Fire and Atlantics in 2019. THE OVERLOOK HOTEL Our protagonist is effectively a living ghost – trapped in a world for which she bares no feeling – and it is Mathon, who shot on 16mm with an Arri 416 camera, that is responsible for the film’s haunting aesthetic. “The grain and timelessness of the stock evokes a ghostliness on the level of the image,” she says. The divine visuals were further heightened by the ominous presence of Anne Boleyn’s spirit and the cinematographer’s lighting choices. Although the movie takes place during wintertime, she keeps warm lights on in the home, with fireplaces burning in as many scenes as possible.
A MOTHER’S LOVE Spencer often shows Diana and her children, warm lighting denoting affection
18. DEFINITIONMAGAZINE.COM
Powered by FlippingBook