Friday, August 11, 2023

Red, White & Royal Blue: Colorless

Red, White & Royal Blue (2023) • View trailer
2.5 stars (out of five). Rated R, for strong sexual content, partial nudity and profanity
Available via: Amazon Prime

I’ve rarely seen a film this uneven.

 

Director Matthew López’s romantic comedy opens with a bit of over-the-top slapstick that suggests what follows might be relentless, frat-boy hijinks.

 

Prince Henry (Nicholas Galitzine, left) and "First Son" Alex Claremont-Diaz (Taylor
Zakhar Perez) smile politely — despite mutual antipathy — moments before they
create a horrific wedding crisis.


Fortunately, the bulk of the film instead settles into a sweet — if needlessly protracted, and highly improbable — wouldn’t-it-be-nice romantic fairy tale, set in the rarefied realm of upper-echelon U.S. and British ruling families.

But that idealistic atmosphere ultimately is destroyed by an atrociously strident, sermonesque finale that stretches credibility way beyond any level of acceptance ... and, it must be mentioned, veers wildly from the 2019 Casey McQuiston novel on which this film is based. The word “overkill” leaps to mind.

 

I can’t imagine what López and co-scripter Ted Malawer were thinking. If I wanted a lecture, I’d go back to school.

 

Everybody involved undoubtedly hoped to replicate the warm reception McQuiston’s LGBT romance novel received upon publication, but the characters and plot beats here have been simplified and sugar-coated to an absurd degree. Drama doesn’t exist without conflict, and — at an overlong two hours — López’s film becomes dull and plodding.

 

Alex Claremont-Diaz (Taylor Zakhar Perez), son of U.S. President Ellen Claremont (Uma Thurman), has long nurtured a grudge against Prince Henry (Nicholas Galitzine), younger brother of the future king of England. Alex nonetheless is sent to represent the States when Henry’s brother, Philip (Thomas Flynn), gets married.

 

The subsequent reception is highlighted by a £75,000 cake that stands taller than the White House Christmas tree. When Alex and Henry begin squabbling like a pair of 5-year-olds, we just know that cake is coming down. On top of them.

 

(This may have played in McQuiston’s book, but — as visualized — it’s a wincing display of wretched excess.)

 

The resulting media circus throws a spanner into President Claremonth’s re-election campaign, and her ongoing negotiations with the British Prime Minister (Sharon D. Clarke). In order to quell what could blossom into a diplomatic crisis, both families force Alex and Henry to feign friendship during a series of interviews and photo ops. (No hostility here, folks!)

 

In what must be one of cinema’s fastest turn-arounds — honestly, I got whiplash — Alex and Henry become genuinefriends. They exchange phone numbers and — back to their responsibilities, separated by the Atlantic — exchange increasingly chatty messages (a clever montage sequence).

 

Alex invites Henry to his “killer” New Year’s Eve party, where the latter seems wholly out of place in the raucously crowded, dance- and music-laden festivities. Henry retreats to the snowy calmness outside; Alex follows, worried that something is wrong. His concern is sidelined when Henry impulsively kisses him.

 

They subsequently build a flirty long-distance relationship punctuated by occasional, increasingly torrid visits. They’re discreet, mindful of the potentially scandalous fallout on both sides of the pond, should their relationship go public.

 

Perez and Galitzine share genuine chemistry; this film’s strongest touch involves the hesitant manner with which Alex and Henry fall in love, each not wanting to move too quickly, or presume too much. Perez’s Alex is gregarious and physically fit, which somewhat overwhelms Galitzine’s quieter, “softer” Henry. (To compensate for that, at one point Henry gets to show off his prowess while playing polo.)

 

Although recognizing the need for caution, Alex assumes that everything will work out … which seems ridiculous, given that his mother is running for re-election in a badly polarized United States, and may not be able to manage a crucial win in her native Texas. Philip, with a better sense of his “historic responsibility,” is less optimistic.

 

Galitzine persuasively plays these mixed emotions, his often heartbreaking expression reflecting the agony of one who understands that a long-term relationship simply cannot happen.

 

Unfortunately, this angst goes on for a long time; we become impatient after an hour, wondering what López and Malawere will do with the second hour. Answer: mostly more of the same, until a crisis erupts late in the third act.

 

But here’s the thing: As various members of Alex’s family and White House entourage learn of his relationship, everybody is totally accepting and blithely unconcerned about potential political fallout. The kumbaya approval certainly is welcome — wouldn’t it be nice! — but Alex and Henry aren’t average individuals in an everyday setting. 

 

The high point of absurdity comes when Alex admits the relationship to his mother, who does nothing but cheerfully begin a discussion of safe sex conduct, while displaying absolutely no concern about what this might do to her tight re-election race. Thurman can’t begin to pull of this scene; it’s sheer nonsense.

 

What follows is even worse. López and Malawer have deleted the villain in McQuiston’s novel, which gave her climax genuine edge and suspense. Instead, we’re subjected to a laughably preposterous finale that Perez can’t begin to pull off. (Eyes will roll out of their sockets.)

 

A minor saving grace: Stephen Fry’s fleeting appearance as the King of England. Fry’s subtle touches, however brief, are a treat.

 

Rachel Hilson stands out as White House staffer Nora Holleran, Alex’s best friend and confidant. She’s playful but also perceptive and insightful; Hilson sells the moment every time, when Alex seeks advice from Nora.

 

Sarah Shahi is equally fine as the often exasperated Zahra Bankston, Ellen Claremont’s deputy chief of staff. Shahi’s best moment comes when Zahra unexpectedly learns of Alex and Henry’s relationship: a marvelous blend of surprise, anxiety and — we see the gears clicking behind Shahi’s eyes — immediate thoughts of damage control.

 

Clifton Collins Jr. is quietly honest as Congressman and First Gentleman Oscar Diaz, certainly the most benevolent father who ever walked the planet. Akshaye Khanna makes the most of his brief scenes as Shaan Srivastava, Henry’s calm and capable equerry.


Unfortunately, despite (mostly) credible performances, this film simply doesn’t work. The pacing and tone are slow and uninvolving, and the script is much too contrived.

 

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