My Ph.D. is in American History from Loyola University Chicago. I also have a minor field in Early Modern England. While this was more a matter of the types of classes available for me to take, it did afford me two courses with Dr. Robert Bucholz, which was a treat. The few times I heard him discuss movies, he roundly denounced the two films made about Queen Elizabeth I (Cate Blanchett). Of course, I completely trusted his historical assessment. However, my professor could also be spotted at daily Mass at the main campus’ stunning chapel, Madonna della Strada. I never got a chance to ask if at least part of his criticism pertained to the poor way in which Catholics are treated in them. It would be a fair question because Catholicism in today’s flick, Elizabeth: The Golden Age (2007), is not portrayed in a positive light.

Starting in 1585, Elizabeth: The Golden Age opens with Europe divided by religion and Spain under King Philip II (Jordi Mollà) presented as the great Catholic power determined to overthrow Protestant England. Philip conspires with Catholic clergy and agents to remove Queen Elizabeth I, while Elizabeth faces a more personal problem at court: she is unmarried, childless, and increasingly aware that her Catholic cousin Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots (Samantha Morton), remains a possible successor. Sir Francis Walsingham (Geoffrey Rush), Elizabeth’s chief adviser and spymaster, urges her to consider marriage, and she dutifully examines potential husbands, including the awkward Archduke Charles of Austria (Christian Brassington), without much enthusiasm. Her interest is instead captured by Sir Walter Raleigh (Clive Owen), who returns from the Americas bearing potatoes, tobacco, two indigenous persons, and Spanish gold that he claims came from ships unable to continue their journey. Elizabeth refuses the gold and orders that the native peoples be treated well, but Raleigh’s stories of exploration fascinate her. Since the queen cannot openly pursue him, she sends her favorite lady-in-waiting, Elizabeth “Bess” Throckmorton (Abbie Cornish), to learn more about him. Predictably, Bess and Raleigh become attracted to each other. Meanwhile, Elizabeth consults astrologer Dr. John Dee (David Threlfall), who foresees two empires going to war but cannot say which will prevail. Just for the record, the Church frowns upon astrology. The political threat grows as Jesuits and Spanish agents plot Elizabeth’s assassination in what Philip calls the English Enterprise. Mary, held under guard, communicates through coded letters, while young Anthony Babington (Eddie Redmayne) is recruited into the conspiracy. Walsingham’s network tracks the plot, and even his Catholic brother becomes entangled in it. The film repeatedly associates Catholicism with shadowy priests, assassins, torture, and Philip’s almost apocalyptic religious fanaticism, which will give this Catholic reviewer plenty to discuss later. Elizabeth nevertheless insists that she will not force her subjects to share her Protestant beliefs, even as Walsingham warns that conspirators are moving against her. The danger becomes immediate when Babington approaches Elizabeth while she is praying in a cathedral and fires a pistol at her. She stands defiantly before him, only to discover that the weapon contains no bullet. Walsingham realizes that the failed assassination is part of a larger trap. Evidence links Mary to the conspiracy, and Elizabeth reluctantly signs the order for her execution. Mary goes to the block dressed in red and is beheaded, but her death gives Philip precisely the justification he wants. The film presents the execution as a calculated Catholic provocation: with Mary dead, Philip can portray Elizabeth as a murderous heretic and move openly toward invasion with papal approval. While England prepares for war, Elizabeth’s private life collapses. Raleigh and Bess secretly marry after she becomes pregnant by him, even though Bess, as a lady-in-waiting, requires royal permission to wed. Elizabeth discovers the marriage and pregnancy and reacts with fury, feeling personally betrayed by both of them. She banishes Bess from court and has Raleigh imprisoned, her jealousy exposing the loneliness beneath the carefully constructed image of the Virgin Queen. That crisis soon becomes secondary when the Spanish Armada sails for England. Elizabeth releases Raleigh so that he can join Sir Francis Drake (Malcolm Storry) and the English fleet, forgives Bess, and rides before her troops in armor to rally them against the invasion. At sea, the English initially appear badly outmatched by Philip’s enormous fleet. Raleigh participates directly in the fighting as English fire ships are sent toward the anchored Spanish vessels. A violent storm then scatters and destroys much of the armada, leaving Philip devastated as his grand religious and military campaign collapses. Elizabeth watches the burning fleet from the English coast, surviving the threat that has haunted her throughout the film. She later visits the dying Walsingham and tells her faithful servant to rest before reconciling fully with Raleigh and Bess. Holding their infant, Elizabeth blesses the child and accepts that the domestic life she briefly desired will never be hers. The scene features the queen by herself, being the queen the English people need but untouchable.

We close Elizabeth: The Golden Age by transforming Elizabeth’s loneliness into national mythology: she may have no husband or biological child, but she embraces her identity as the Virgin Queen and symbolic mother of England. It is an impressive image, even if the movie reaches it by making Catholics look as though we spend most of our free time plotting assassinations, launching armadas, and staring ominously through clouds of incense. Still, Walsingham does have a distinctly Catholic statement on Elizabeth’s virginity, commenting on that state’s usefulness. If only more young Catholics had the same opinion. What is also a matter of opinion is much of this film’s history, and a great deal of it is tied to Catholicism. The notion that Elizabeth is lenient toward her subjects of the Roman persuasion is arguably the biggest lie of them all. To be fair, there were those in England and elsewhere in Europe who wanted to see the island nation return to the Catholic fold. Indeed, there are places throughout the country that retain their “priest holes.” These were secret compartments built in the homes of English Catholics to conceal priests who continued ministering to the faithful. Such hiding places became particularly important during Elizabeth’s reign. In 1585, a law made it high treason for Catholic priests ordained abroad after Elizabeth’s accession to enter or remain in England, an offense punishable by death, while those who knowingly sheltered or assisted them also faced severe penalties. Ordinary Catholic recusants were not automatically sentenced to death simply for remaining Catholic, but they faced fines and other punishments for refusing to conform to the established Church. Such matters are not discussed in the movie because, despite the rage she flies into over Bess and Raleigh’s affair, they want to paint Elizabeth in as positive a light as possible. I get it, too, because, as a queen, there is much to admire. However, her treatment of Catholicism is a decidedly black mark on her legacy that is as whitewashed in this film as her alabaster face.

Because Elizabeth: The Golden Age is about legacy building instead of any kind of real historical event, I do not recommend watching it. There is some nice cinematography, but there is little else of value in it.