María Estuardo

The complicated historical background involved in MARY OF Scotland is such that unless you know something about British monarchs you'll have a hard time knowing where the truth lies in this epic historical romance. But it's clear that KATHARINE HEPBURN gives a radiant performance as Mary, Queen of Scots--the only drawback being that she never ages a bit over a twenty-five year span. When she goes to her execution, she looks just as young as she did in the opening scene.

It's a pleasure to report that FREDRIC MARCH breathes a lot of life into his portrayal of Bothwell. Too bad he didn't exhibit this kind of gusto when he played the title role in ANTHONY ADVERSE the same year. He's all bravado and robust athletic grace and looks good in his period costumes. Maybe we owe his strong performance to John Ford, but whatever it is, he's much better here than he was as Anthony Adverse.

JOHN CARRADINE seemed an unusual choice to play Rizzo, the Italian secretary who happens to be a troubadour of sorts, but it's nice to see him in a more sympathetic role for a change. DONALD CRISP, ALAN MOBRAY, DOUGLAS WALTON and FRIEDA INESCOURT are interesting in supporting roles.

Walton is another actor who shines here, rather than remaining colorless in the background of many a film. He gives a flamboyant performance as Lord Darnley and it's probably among the best roles he ever had.

FLORENCE ELDRIDGE makes an interesting Queen Elizabeth, less showy in the role than Bette Davis or Flora Robson but still with the right amount of regal spirit.

John Ford directs the first half of the film with his usual authority but things get a little too repetitious and slow-moving in the second half when tedium really settles in before Mary's final walk to the execution block.

Summing up: A mixed bag, some strong performances, a few strong scenes but overall result is disappointing. Here's an historical romance that cried out for Technicolor. It manages to look drab in B&W despite the lavish costumes and good photography.

The life story of Mary, Queen of Scots is a thoroughly engaging one. I recommend anyone who wants to know more about the history while being entertained at the same time to check out the two Jean Plaidy books, ROYAL ROAD TO FOTHERINGAY and its sequel, THE CAPTIVE QUEEN OF SCOTS - two great little novels that tell you all there is to know.

MARY OF Scotland is an all-too Hollywoodised version of the story that suffers from an exceptionally overlong running time, unfortunately. It's strange, because some parts of the production are exceptionally slow and boring, while 19 years of history is condensed into about five minutes. There are a few eventful bits but for the most part this is a drag.

The director is none other than John Ford, but despite the presence of such a cinematic luminary, he seems uninterested in the material which is lifeless as a result. Katharine Hepburn is also a disappointment as Mary herself, singularly failing to make the queen sympathetic in any way. Fredric March does what he can as Bothwell, and there are nice little roles for John Carradine and Moroni Olsen, but it's not enough.

I particularly disliked the way that some good little bits of history are omitted or simplified for no apparent reason. For instance, Douglas Walton's final scene didn't happen that way at all and much more drama could have been made of it. Instead all the focus is on the talk and its incessant and goes nowhere. The definitive story of Mary, Queen of Scots this certainly isn't.

Brooks Atkinson was a first rate drama critic for the New York Times. He had blind spots. He over enthused on the career of Maxwell Anderson. Anderson wrote some good plays such as "Winterset", but Anderson was enthusiastic of Anderson's pompous attempts to do dramas in blank verse: "Mary Of Scotland", "Elizabeth The Queen", and "Anne Of The Thousand Days".

The problem with these plays is, even if they get the history right they are too stiff. Compare the conclusion of "Elizabeth The Queen" to "A Man For All Seasons". Yes, the loneliness of the elderly Elizabeth is shown as Essex goes to his doom - but in reality Elizabeth knew there were other young men to replace her dangerous, ambitious lover. In "All Seasons" the tragedy of a rotten system crushing the life of a decent, thoughtful man like Thomas More is far more powerful as it's stark tragedy is silently brought to us.

That said, the first of the three Tudor tragedies to be filmed was "Mary Of Scotland". It is above average because it is starring Katherine Hepburn (a distant relative of Mary's third husband the Earl of Bothwell) and Frederic March, and directed wholly or partially by John Ford. It suffers from being black and white, except for one moment of sheer unexpected terror: when Mary sees the Scots nobles who oppose her they are photographed in such light and darkness to look like ogres in a nightmare.

The film follows the reign of Mary from 1560 to her execution in 1587. Most Americans do not understand the great difficulties that Mary (and Elizabeth) both faced in their parallel reigns. While England and Scotland allowed for female monarchs, women were not considered good material for rulers. They were considered governed by their emotions more than by their brains. Those women who ruled well were usually married to capable partners (Isabella of Castille and Ferdinand of Aragon of Spain). More frequently they were dismissed as misfits, like Isabella and Ferdinand's daughter Juana the Mad).

Mary had other problems. From 1400 to 1560 the nobles of Scotland got a great boon. Scotland had a series of minors who grew up to be king, married, and then died before they could cement their monarchic views on the government. The nobles cemented their local powers at the expense of a weak central authority.

Mary had been Queen of France, married to Francis II who ruled for a two year period (1559 - 1560). As Mary was the niece of the Duc De Guise, the king's power-hungry mother Catherine De Medici hated her. When Francis died suddenly, Catherine encouraged Mary to return to rule her own country. Surprised Mary did so, not realizing that she was unprepared to start ruling. She was a Catholic, and she really needed some time to understand the need to compromise and take advice from Protestants. She never did understand this.

Her foes hated her and were fully supported by Elizabeth, who never could see that an attempt to join forces with her cousin might pay back great dividends. But then Mary was ambitious - she wanted to be Queen of England as well as Scotland. Her Catholic supporters felt she was legitimate Queen of England (as Henry VIII had briefly disowned Elizabeth as a bastard when he executed her mother Anne). So the peaceful resolution of their differences was almost impossible.

Elizabeth had only to watch from the sidelines, with only an occasional move on her own part, to see Mary wreck her own position. She encouraged a marriage between another cousin/potential heir Lord Henry Darnley to Mary (Mary almost chose Elizabeth's lover Robert Dudley!). The marriage was a disaster, as Darnley was an ambitious fool and vicious scoundrel. But it cemented a Scottish succession to the British throne from two Tudor heirs instead of one.

Hepburn portrays Mary as a brave woman desperately seeking a way out of the difficult situation she has inherited, especially tied to Darnley by marriage and facing the ghouls who are John Knox (Moroni Olsen) and the Scottish nobles - led by her jealous half brother the Earl of Moray (Ian Keith). Her only allies are the independent Earl of Bothwell (March) and her secretary Rizzio (John Carridine). The murder of the latter (implicating Darnley) is the first step to her loss of the throne, and to the death of her husband. We know today that Kirk'a'Field house was blown up by Bothwell, but to this day we don't know if Mary was implicated. It remains one of the big mysteries of the 16th Century.

Historically Bothwell was no prince, but ambitious in his own right - he killed Darnley in order to marry Mary, and guide her to rule both Scotland and England. But March plays him as a man deeply in love with his Queen, and this enhances the story's tragedy - especially as Bothwell died in exile insane. The reason for this was his ship was captured by a Danish warship. Bothwell was guilty of a rape in Denmark, and was imprisoned. His punishment (which led to his madness) was to stand chained to a stone pillar that was half his height.

The last ten minutes glosses over the road that led Mary to the block in England - her support of a plot by one Anthony Babbington to kill Elizabeth and let Mary take the throne. Elizabeth's spy-master Sir Francis Walsingham sprung this trap - though Elizabeth did not reject the result. Elizabeth allowed a functionary to be blamed for falsely getting her to sign the death warrant - but all she did was briefly imprison the man. Unlike her movie representative (Florence Eldritch) she never met Mary.

A good film - but it is too gentle on Mary's failings, and not deep enough to explain what is going on in the background.

Katharine Hepburn plays the young queen in this John Ford version of the rivalry between Mary of Scots and her cousin, Elizabeth I (played by Florence Eldridge; whose husband Fredric March plays a jaunty Lord Bothwell). Cut back to the bare bones, and squarely on the differences between the two women, it isn't altogether successful.

John Knox rants his Protestant spiel, Bothwell appears with a retinue of pipers (at several points); Darnley's murder is glossed over, as is his smallpox. John Carradine has a well-defined role as the ill-fated David Rizzio, while Mary's parasitical court of Lords are quirkily represented and dismissed.

Hepburn isn't as bad as one would fear, but it wasn't really a suitable role for her, nor, one would expect, was the material enough for tough director Ford to make much of. So this film remains a misfire, with some interesting sequences and some strong performances, but as a whole, it just doesn't work.

There was something of a fad for Tudor-period dramas in the late 1930s, although Mary of Scotland is something of an overlooked picture in the careers of Katherine Hepburn and John Ford. The star and director went on to have an on-off love affair, although this was the only occasion on which they worked together.

Mary of Scotland has the look that is typical of Ford's RKO features. It's often forgotten that Ford was a director who liked to work with space, shape and light, usually manifested in a sharp contrast between the indoor and outdoor worlds. Here the contrast is between the palace of Elizabeth – light, open and filled of straight lines and symmetry – and the castle of Mary – small, shadowy and made of rough curves. At first glance this seems to imply that the Scottish setting is grimmer and more confined, but for Ford these cosy spaces with layers of shadows were also about honesty and simplicity – see for example the compositions he makes in The Informer or The Fugitive. Those two pictures were also made at RKO, and their expressive look is testament to the fact that although the studio might not have had much money it did have a strong and open-minded production design team, something Ford took advantage of when he could.

By this point, few Ford films would be complete without the sing-song scene, and there is an especially fine example in Mary of Scotland. Ford never made an out-and-out musical in his career, but the way he uses singing as an emotional backdrop is remarkable. Here, the song sung by the peasants as they march into the castle begins as a simple yet effective expository device – demonstrating where the people's loyalties lie – but then the scene moves onto another level. Ford isolates one singer, then cuts to a rare close-up of Hepburn. The beauty of the music provides a backdrop to her emoting. It is in such moments that Ford's direction is at its strongest.

This was perhaps an important breakthrough role for Hepburn, whose parts until now had mostly been as teenagers or young women. This is her first real adult role and she handles it well, albeit with one or two touches of uncertainty when she is required to act "queenly". She does however manage the task of humanising the queen, more so than the screenplay would seem to allow. Unfortunately her leading man, the normally excellent Fredric March, is rather bland here. It's a real treat though to see John Carradine in a role where he really gets to show his more sensitive side. Because of his looks, not to mention his creepy voice, the character actor generally landed villainous roles, but he was actually at his best playing good guys.

One oft-repeated story regarding this production – although it varies a little depending on who's telling it, so pinches of salt at the ready – is that Hepburn and Ford disagreed over the necessity of Mary and Bothwell's final scene together on the tower top. Ford thought it a pointless bit of soppiness, Hepburn said it was the most important scene in the script. Eventually a flippant Ford challenged Hepburn to direct it herself, which she did. The scene stands out because Hepburn actually shoots it with some romantic tenderness – something Ford hardly ever did – with lengthy close-ups and rhyming angles. You can see why Ford didn't like it; he tended to downplay the love themes in his pictures, and on top of that the scene is rather heavy on dialogue. Hepburn was right though – without this scene the romance between Mary and Bothwell would be little more than a subplot, and without the romance the film wouldn't work. Audiences would find it hard to empathise with a queen clinging onto her throne, but easy to sympathise with a woman separated from the man she loves.

Mary of Scotland was not really Ford's cup of tea, and it was his rather cavalier approach to interpreting a screenplay that spoiled a fair few of his pictures (even though it won him the admiration of the auteurists). This picture is only saved by his use of music, the proficiency of the RKO crew and of course the good judgement of Katherine Hepburn. Nevertheless, I can't help but love Ford's laid-back realism. In one scene, we see a dog barking crazily at men entering a room; in another a moth flutters about John Knox's head. How many other directors of that era would have kept those takes?