In the grand soap opera of 16th-century European politics, Mary Stuart played a dizzying role, which rendered her both larger and smaller than life. Crowned Queen of Scotland after her father’s death when she was six days old, she was smuggled over to France aged five to prevent Henry VIII from marrying her off to his son Edward, in order to bring the Scots to heel. She briefly became Queen of France, and had three husbands, all of whom died on her (one, possibly, with her connivance), before being beheaded for treason by Elizabeth at the age of 44.
The paradox of a queen who was also a political pawn is captured with breathtaking ferocity by 71-year-old Isabelle Huppert, who recounts the story of Mary’s life on the eve of her death, with excerpts from her letters. For the first quarter-hour of the 90-minute tour de force, she is a silhouette at the back of the wide stage, who spits out a swirling torrent of words while standing perfectly still, her hands stiffly crossed on the bodice of a glittering black dress.
