It’s been said that Empress Elisabeth of Austria (1837-1898) wanted to be buried near the sea. Colloquially known as “Sisi,” she defied stuffy Habsburg expectations by being difficult, depressed, and proudly anorexic. She hated being at court, loved traveling, had a home on Corfu, and like any modern woman living in practically any hip neighborhood, she had an anchor tattooed on her left shoulder. Her wax figure at Madame Tussauds in Vienna even includes this detail despite her 19th century regalia. Unfortunately, Sisi never got her dying wish, but she did come close. The Empress of Austria died on a boat after being stabbed to death on the banks of Lake Geneva by an anarchist named Luigi Lucheni. She was eventually laid to rest near her son Crown Prince Rudlof, who died by suicide, in the Imperial Crypt. Despite being posthumously landlocked, Marie Kreutzer gives Sisi a new life in her film Corsage. Kreutzer defies history and the ill-fated codes and conventions of the biopic by finally letting Sisi have the sea.
Keeping in tune with Kreutzer’s vision, Corsage begins with water. Sinking deep into her bathtub, Sisi (played by a manic but brilliant Vicky Krieps) is holding her breath while her maids look on. “She scares me so much,” one of them whispers right before Sisi resurfaces around the 45 second marker. It’s an astute observation that almost everyone not-so quietly agrees upon. Plagued by strict expectations and endless gossip, it’s publicly known that the Empress is a nightmare rather than a daydream despite her beauty. In an effort to conceal her unhappiness, Sisi hides behind her long locks of auburn hair that cascade toward the floor, but when she strips down to her corset, or corsage as it's called in German, there’s hell to pay. It’s clear that Sisi is not kind to herself. At 40, looks are her only valuable currency, and because she’s aging, her methods of control feel antiquated if not completely ruled by gender expectations. As a result, she beats her body into submission with vigorous exercises and barely eats, but when someone suggests she has a drink to calm her nerves or see a doctor, she quickly rebuffs, much to everyone’s annoyance.
The narrative of Corsage is mostly ruled by these sorts of exhausting external anxieties that wear out their welcome over time. Sisi is extremely stubborn and only sort of trusts her ladies in waiting, who she also continuously doms with her privilege and dogged behavior, so for the most part, she languishes in her own depression rather than seek treatment unless it's thrust upon her. She uses men, who are not her husband, the most, but their flirting can only take Sisi so far, especially when she will not consummate any of her affairs for fear of getting pregnant (or fat). Horseback riding is another trivial pursuit that provides little solace because she can never truly run free, and heroin, which her doctor prescribes after a mental breakdown, totally works, but it doesn’t provide Sisi with any mental clarity, as you can imagine. All of these episodes are allegedly true, including the drugs, but over time you realize that Kreutzer is slowly infusing fact with fiction.
Krieps, who breaks the fourth wall early in the film, is Kreutzer’s weapon of choice and perhaps the most obvious indicator of historical departure. The Empress of Austria in Corsage is very much a 21st century woman similar to Kirsten Dunst in Sofia Coppola’s playful anti-biopic Marie Antoinette rather than Romy Schnieder’s Heimatfilm-approved “Sissi” of the 1950s. Krieps’s version of Sisi is surprisingly open and well-rounded character despite often being confined indoors and restricted by a literal corset. Sometimes, she’s completely human despite her privilege, especially when it comes to rearing her children, and other times she switches between being completely feral, tender, or surprisingly funny. Krieps has an affinity for these sorts of modelesque, difficult women, who always end up having the last word. She’s probably best known for standing her ground as Alma in Phantom Thread, Paul Thomas Anderson’s film of marital attrition, and in Corsage, Krieps is just as strong. She holds her emotions close to the body until they can’t help but lash out with either the middle finger or a devilish laugh.
Kreutzer’s main gift, other than Krieps, is that she seamlessly blends the melodramatic tropes of the biopic with her own version of history. She notes, “the interesting thing about historical figures is that every historical account is, to a certain extent, a fiction. None of us was actually there.” In order to pull off this fine line, Kreutzer seduces her audience by making sure Corsage looks a certain way. Therefore, the palaces, locations, and costumes are just as appealing as any episode of The Crown until you realize that the wallpaper is peeling off the walls and the furniture is threadbare. We’re nearing the end of the Habsburg line and the only person who seems aware that the light is fading is Sisi. This small bit of clairvoyance saves her.
Kreutzer lets the Empress use this knowledge to her advantage and sets up her life accordingly. She coaches her ladies in waiting on the art of impersonation by basically having them lose weight, gives her husband’s mistress the “okay,” cuts her hair, sails towards Corfu, and ditches court life once and for all. Only maybe half of this is true, but it’s treated as reality in Corsage. This 21st century update serves as wish-fulfillment for our mentally unwell protagonist. Kreutzer, who initially wasn’t interested in making a film about Sisi, leans into the three dimensionality of her subject and treats the Empress with some much needed care and attention by creating a biopic that isn’t completely ruled by historical accuracy. Instead, Sisi benefits from Kreutzer’s well-placed modernity. She doesn’t get stabbed or spend the rest of her life mourning the death of her beloved son because he doesn’t die. Kreutzer cuts Sisi off when the getting’s good. Obviously, Kreutzer is still in-tune with Sisi’s well-documented depression and mania, but she replaces most of the Empress’s tragedies with some much needed agency. In terms of the boring biopic, Corsage is at least refreshing.