Mrs Brown

Synopsis: Queen Victoria is deeply depressed after the death of her husband, disappearing from public. Her servant Brown, who adores her, through caress and admiration brings her back to life, but that relationship creates scandalous situation and is likely to lead to monarchy crisis.
Director(s): John Madden
Production: Miramax Films
  Nominated for 2 Oscars. Another 12 wins & 23 nominations.
 
IMDB:
7.3
Metacritic:
71
Rotten Tomatoes:
94%
PG
Year:
1997
101 min
211 Views


[Thunder Rumbling]

[Panting]

[Thunderclap]

God save the Queen!

[Man] "I have sent for

a Mr John Brown from Balmoral.

"Her Majesty has mentioned him

on one or two occasions...

"as being a most devoted outdoor

servant to Prince Albert...

"during his last days there.

"The depths of the Queen's sorrow

remain impenetrable.

"She has now restricted herself

to a regime...

"of such

ferocious introspection...

"that we are all

at our wits' end.

"The household continues

at her instruction...

"to observe the rituals

now so familiar to her.

"in a vain attempt

to render vivid...

"that which

can never be revived.

"Family and staff expend

all their efforts...

"in endeavouring to draw her out of

this state of unfettered morbidity,

"but to no avail.

"We must hope, therefore,

that this Mr Brown...

"would appeal to the Queen's...

"sentimental

though deeply held view...

"that all Highlanders

are good for the health.

[Gasping]

Sorry, ma'am.

"He is arriving with

the Queen's pony this afternoon,

"by which time it is hoped Her Majesty

will be in a fit state...

"to consider riding out.

"As to that decision,

along with all others,

"we remain, as ever,

"prisoners of the Queen's grief.

Ever your devoted husband,

Henry."

Windsor.

Congratulations,

Your Royal Highness.

- Boy, I hear.

- Yes.

- Excellent. Excellent.

- Albert Victor.

"Eddie" for short.

- What do you think?

- A fine choice, sir.

Excellent.

How many?

The royal family and senior members

of the household, ma'am.

- Just those?

- Yes, ma'am.

[Bell Chiming]

[Silverware Clinking]

[Clock Ticking]

[Clearing Throat]

We're expecting Brown

this afternoon, ma'am.

Whom?

That's a very pretty shawl

you're wearing, Alex.

The colour suits you well.

But you're not eating enough.

One must not let vanity

overrule one's appetite.

Yes, ma'am.

[Horses Whinnying In Stable]

We were due at a quarter

past 1:
00. You're late.

Her Majesty's routine at Osborne House

is not as you will remember it.

The household remains

in full mourning,

and no one is permitted to raise their

voice under any circumstance whatsoever.

The Queen breakfasts at 9:30,

lunches at 2:
00,

takes tea at 5:
30

and dinner at 8:
45.

No one's allowed to leave the building

while the Queen is at home.

On rare occasions when she's out,

you may ask permission to leave,

but only

with my consent.

You're to be ready to walk the pony

at any time after 10:00.

You'll clean the Queen's

outdoor things...

and do any odd jobs

as and when she requires.

How will I know?

I'm sorry?

- How will I know

what the Queen requires?

- You'll be sent a message.

- And who will bring it to me?

- Her Highness's equerry.

I'll need a man

who knows where I am.

- Oh, I don't think it'd be

difficult to find you.

- That's not good enough.

- Then we'll have to see

what can be arranged.

- Aye. Do.

As I'm sure you'll remember

from Balmoral,

you do not speak

while in Her Majesty's presence,

unless Her Majesty

addresses you directly.

Mr Brown, ma'am.

Mr Brown is here, ma'am.

- Mr Brown.

- Ma'am.

- You're here safely?

- Aye, ma'am.

- You are well?

- I am.

- And the pony?

- She's well too.

Your family sent cards.

It was much appreciated.

I'm glad of it.

My husband was always very complimentary

in speaking of you.

He would have approved, I'm sure,

of my calling on you in this way.

I trust it does not

inconvenience you too much.

I have no family, ma'am.

Only my brothers and sisters.

Yes.

You have a brother

in service here, do you not?

- I forget his name.

- Archie.

Yes.

That will be company

for you.

Yes.

[Gasps]

Honest to God, I never thought

to see you in such a state.

You must miss him

dreadfully.

You do not...

He...

Get him out!

Get him out of here!

Get him out!

Get him out!

So, the day they arrived,

she greets the sultan and

his family with barely a word

and retires to her chamber.

Now, the sultan, he's not used to

state occasions without a head of state,

and he's standing in the lobby waiting

for someone to tell him what to do.

But the court

is under strict instructions

not to talk in the corridor,

so nobody speaks to him, not

a living soul, for the whole afternoon.

So now it's dinner,

and everyone's standing around

the table, still not a word,

waiting for Her Majesty

to arrive.

One hour goes by, two.

The sultan is getting a wee

bit peckish, to say the least.

Finally, his wee laddie

breaks for the cold meats

and stuffs a slice in his mouth.

Oh, the uproar

when she heard.

- You'd have thought somebody

had stolen the crown jewels.

- So?

[Sighing] So there are rules.

Things you do and don't do.

All I did was tell the woman

how I feel, for God's sake.

- You don't tell Her Majesty

how you feel.

- I speak as I find, Archie.

Not down south you don't.

- So, what did Ponsonby do

when she started shouting?

- [Slams Drawer Shut]

[Sighing]

I thought he nearly ruptured his truss.

Prince Leopold? Now isn't he the one

who sits around bleedin' all day?

So what does his valet do?

Bring out his bandages for him?

It's better than

shovelling horseshit.

Now, if it's promotion

you're after,

you should've picked

one of the healthier ones.

She's hardly

a full hamper herself.

It's only grief that's

made her that way.

Three years, John? Is that not

a bit long to be grieving?

- She loved him.

- Come on, man.

- There's love. Then there's...

- What?

- [Pitcher Thuds]

- You know what I mean.

I don't think I do, Archie.

There's love, and there's

behaving like you do...

because there's nobody

to tell you not to.

So, which one of us

was she flirtin' with?

The good-looking one.

Obviously doesn't have

enough to do.

You work the system right,

you could ask her yourself.

Just be thankful you're not working

for the household.

The Queen never lets them

out of her sight.

But wee spats like us can slip

through the net easy.

I'm no wee spat, Archie.

[Laughing]

[Maid]

Don't just stare at him.

[Neighing]

Who is that?

- It's Mr Brown, ma'am.

- What is he doing there?

He appears to be standing

by his horse, ma'am.

I made no request

to go out riding today.

How long

has he been there?

I don't know, ma'am.

He was observed earlier, I believe.

Sir Henry, Mr Brown is standing

in the courtyard.

- I've no wish to go riding.

- I'm very sorry, ma'am.

I can't imagine...

He was certainly given

no instructions.

Please make sure

it does not happen again.

Of course. At once.

- What on Earth did you think

you were doing?

- Awaiting my orders.

You do not report for duty

unless the Queen requests of it.

You know that very well.

I didn't come all this way

to sit on my arse.

You'll await your orders

like everyone else...

unless you prefer a repeat

of yesterday's little excitement.

No.

I beg your pardon?

I thought I made myself

perfectly clear.

You do not leave your room

until Her Majesty requests it.

You tell Her Majesty

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Jeremy Brock

Jeremy Brock MBE (born 1959) is a British writer and director whose works include the screenplays Mrs Brown, Driving Lessons, The Last King of Scotland, Charlotte Gray, and The Eagle. Brock has also written two plays for the Hampstead downstairs theatre. more…

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