Movie review: The Iron Lady
From the title choice of a film whose main character couldn’t have seemed further from iron to its focus being elsewhere than Margaret Thatcher’s significant political achievements, ‘The Iron Lady’ surprised me in every way.
The film has been criticised for lack of accuracy and clarity; a blog by Norman Tebbit claimed, “If the real Margaret Thatcher had been like Meryl Streep's Iron Lady, I wouldn't have supported her”, another reviewer wondered why the film had been made at all. Despite this, there is no denying Streep’s performance as tremendously evocative, not only in her portrayal of an immensely powerful and influential woman but also in the way this character is seamlessly weaved with one very different, an almost haunted octogenarian embodying love, loss, dementia and profound grief. The superb way in which this contrast plays out on-screen undoubtedly makes for an essay on sadness, regardless of political persuasion.
The highlights of Thatcher’s career are narrated in fast moving montages of recollection triggered by reminders in the present day, and deal mainly with the period between 1959 and 1990 – the year Thatcher joined Parliament to the end of her time as Prime Minister. It deals with the myriad Thatcherite policies against the backdrop of a Britain spinning out of control: we see her handle with determination the bombing of Brighton’s Grand Hotel by the IRA and wrestle with the Falkland Islands conflict while all the time cementing her influence upon foreign affairs, industrial relations and privatisation. The riots of 1981 and the recession of the early 1980s are touched upon, as is Thatcher’s controversial stance on tax which attracted the doubts of even members of her own Cabinet. While this was good, I’m unsure that the film does justice to the amount of history and personality there is to draw upon, and the rapidity of the flashbacks make for a mere abbreviation that is less than cohesive.
However, as someone who was not alive during Margaret Thatcher’s time in leadership, whether or not the film does justice to her as a woman and/or a Prime Minister was not my primary interest; filmmakers inevitably make cinematic choices that involve creative license and liberty. This is compounded by the fact that Thatcher is now almost famously reclusive due to the state of her health. Rather, in the positively heart rendering nature of both the political and personal scenes there is to be found a timely reminder that beneath our political differences we are all fragile, vulnerable human beings.
