Queen Victoria (Judy Dench, left) develops a friendship with Abdul Karim ( Ali Fazel), a visitor from India.
Hey, they finally made the sequel to 1997’s Mrs. Brown, the movie in which Judi Dench as Queen Victoria develops a close platonic friendship — or maybe even a romance — with royal groundskeeper John Brown in the early years of her widowhood, in the 1860s. It was a scandal! And now here’s Victoria & Abdul, which opens 20 years later and stars Dench again as a 20-years-later Queen Victoria who, in the last years of her reign, develops a close platonic friendship — no suggestion of romance this time — with a servant. And it’s a scandal! At last, the second film in the Victoriaverse.
Victoria & Abdul is a charming British costume dramedy, but its gentle snark about power, propriety and the prissy toadies who dared to try to police the queen makes the film a lot more than just a light distraction.
What happens is this: In 1887, for Victoria’s golden jubilee, a celebration of her 50 years on the throne, Abdul Karim (Ali Fazel) journeys from Agra, in India, to present a special coin, a gift for the woman who is also empress of India from her subjects there. Abdul is not highborn or important; he’s just a clerk. But he has caught the attention of some British functionary who wants to reward him — and also they were looking for someone tall. It’s all quite preposterous, but Abdul is a sweetie (Fazel is absolutely delightful in the role) who adores Victoria and is up for adventure.
Abdul is meant to be almost invisible, but he catches Victoria’s eye; she adopts him as a diverting companion. At first he’s merely a novelty, perhaps, but she is truly lonely and directionless. He is amusing and agreeable and adoring, and he can teach her about a land she ostensibly rules but has never even visited, and knows little about. It seems like a pleasantly symbiotic friendship. What could go wrong?
Director Stephen Frears mines a lot of good-natured humor out of the outrageousness of royal existence, such as the absolute frenzy Windsor Castle is thrown into while preparing for the queen’s arrival. He also provides cutting observations on the appalling privilege and prejudice of those surrounding the queen, including her private secretary, Sir Henry Ponsonby (Tim Pigott-Smith); her lady in waiting, Baroness Churchill (Olivia Williams); and her son, the Prince of Wales, Bertie (Eddie Izzard). “He’s the brown Mr. Brown,” the Baroness sneers; none of them can abide the idea of a servant, an Indian, a Muslim having such unfettered access to the queen. He’s stealing their opportunities to be bootlickers, for starters…
Victoria & Abdul is a true story (“mostly,” an opening card notes wryly), and it does not ignore the deeply problematic issues of colonialism and of Abdul’s... well, it could unkindly be called obsequiousness. India has long since been independent from the United Kingdom, of course, but there remains a resonance for today that I was not anticipating from this film: It’s almost an admonishment to be more open to learning about other cultures, perhaps particularly the ones that seem extra foreign and scary.
There’s additional, almost shocking, relevance to be found here: Much of Ponsonby’s and Bertie’s ire when it comes to the queen’s relationship with Abdul is about men who cannot abide a woman with power, and who dares to assert it, as Victoria does with her repeated insistence that her friendship with Abdul is to be accommodated. This aspect of the film has no happy side to it. But Victoria and Abdul’s friendship, depicted here with great good warmth and wit and kindness, is a wonderful object lesson that barely feels like we’re being schooled at all.
