'Firebrand' review: Jude Law rages like a mercurial royal

The valuable search of the past for hidden heroes, underrepresented figures, and untapped dramatic potential has always kept historians and novelists diligently busy. One might think that the well-researched monarchs of England do not belong in that category. But “Firebrand,” adapted from Elizabeth Fremantle's novel “The Queen's Gambit,” takes the stance that Henry VIII's last wife (of six children), Katherine Parr, was more than just a devoted and deferential nursemaid to a king. sick. She was also a closet reformist radical and, in a telling twist to established history, an abused wife who was not to be messed with.

Even if the facts don't fully support these notions, they are not unappealing to hang a portrait of a bad marriage in a turbulent time, despite the reality that Henry hardly needs to be revealed as a #MeToo serial offender who needs to be dealt with. . comeuppance. And while it's a bit surprising that Brazilian-Algerian iconoclast Karim Aïnouz's first English-language feature is a period drama about English royalty, it features two compelling stars: Alicia Vikander as the proto-feminist Katherine, and an almost unrecognizable burly Jude. The law like the Tudor tyrant.

That combination, however, has drawbacks when the modernist script (credited to Henrietta and Jessica Ashworth, along with Rosanne Flynn) meets Aïnouz's meandering, atmospheric approach. We approach Katherine in 1546, when she enjoys some interim power as a newly appointed regent while Henry fights France abroad. However, she risks treason by meeting clandestinely in the woods with firebrand Protestant preacher Anne Askew (Erin Doherty), eager for a revolution against a vicious church authority that fears commoners reading the Bible in English.

Anne is skeptical that her old friend can do anything within the castle walls, but Katherine's optimistic response is, “I've lasted longer than any other wife.” That's not the flex it looks like. As the loving stepmother of Prince Edward (Patrick Buckley) and Princess Elizabeth (Junia Reeves), Katherine has brought some peace to the children's traumatized lives, but she believes she was chosen by God to bring change. When Henry returns in failing health, he brings to an already fearful court the full weight of his madness, paranoia, jealousy and rage, compounded by a festering leg wound. In addition to putting Katherine in immediate danger, it provokes a fight for survival among her entourage, which includes conservative bishop Stephen Gardiner (Simon Russell Beale), hunter of heretics, and Edward Seymour (Eddie Marsan), the Prince's scheming uncle. Both men would be happy to see Katherine follow the path of her beheaded predecessors if it means preserving her own power.

Vikander's calm, thoughtful Katherine starts out active, but fades into the background as the justifiably watchable tornado that is Henry, played by Oliver-Reed, transforms the film into a biopic of a ruler's howling exit. It becomes the central attraction of photography master Hélène Louvart's sparsely saturated, candlelit interiors. Louvart and the filmmaker, who previously collaborated on Aïnouz's Cannes-winning “The Invisible Life,” work well together, especially when it comes to the rich colors and weighted textures of Michael O'Connor's period costumes, or indeed any close-up of a member of the superlative cast.

But Aïnouz, as understandably drawn to a source of energy, seems increasingly concerned with an atmosphere of domestic terror at the expense of story threads that seek to paint Katherine as a vitally inspiring bridge between her manic husband and the remarkable femininity of his stepdaughter Elizabeth. At one point, it feels like scenes are missing and what's left doesn't look convincing. By the time “Firebrand” reaches its climactic dramatic license over this survivor narrative, we should be better armed to savor it, rather than scratch our heads at a speculative turn from nowhere.