Rating: 8 out of 10.

My mother will be very pleased.

It seems like only yesterday that Marie Kreutzer’s film about Empress Elisabeth of Austria, Corsage, arrived, yet here we are with another hitting theaters already. Thankfully, co-writer (with Christian Kracht) and director Frauke Finsterwalder understood she couldn’t simply give us more of the same. Rather than make Sisi & I about Elisabeth (Susanne Wolff) herself, Finsterwalder decides to tell her story from the vantage point of the empress’s lady-in-waiting, Countess Irma Sztáray (Sandra Hüller). The film becomes about their dynamic together, one that oscillates between friendship and servitude, and the shared struggle of being a woman in 19th century Europe.

As we learn later, both women are ruled by their mothers. Elisabeth’s forced her into “greatness” through the crown. Irma’s forced her into this job because she was already ashamed her daughter reached forty without marriage. And both must fight within themselves to seek happiness in their own way that’s removed from duty. Elisabeth finds hers by making Emperor Franz Joseph of Austria (Markus Schleinzer) allow her isolation at a women’s only commune in Greece, where she wields her position and superiority to abuse and use everyone around her for her own benefit. Irma, a pro at taking abuse, finds hers by reveling in the unbridled spontaneity of her mistress’s mischievous ways.

Whereas others in Elisabeth’s orbit have also given themselves over to her wants and desires, Irma is different. The line of decency is much further away as the empress’s self-satisfied playfulness is interpreted as such by the countess too. They become sisters as opposed to predator and prey, teaming up to attack the others even if Irma often gets caught in the crosshairs of overly violent “gags” herself. It begins to seem as though they are thick as thieves and unwilling to ever be apart until we recognize the looks upon the faces of the others. They too had that shorthand with Elisabeth. No one would stay without it. Someone else ultimately always takes the spotlight away.

Not that Elisabeth doesn’t admit as much from the start. She loathes boredom. Irma is thus an injection of life and laughter. But so is Viktor (Georg Friedrich). So is Franz whenever he deems her worthy of remembrance. So are countless other friends and acquaintances to be picked up and played with until they are unceremoniously left by the wayside again. Irma must then render herself to be indispensable in such a way that Franz wants to keep her on and Elisabeth wants to open her arms again when the sorrow of loss and rejection dissipates. Irma is the glutton for punishment who’s willing to weather the tumultuous tides and reap the benefits of sunnier days.

The result is an entertaining ride. Think of these two as children in adult bodies wreaking havoc on those in their employ and on each other. Because the longer Elisabeth’s immaturity is left unchecked, the more opportunity there is for her tantrums and antics to go too far. That’s when we see the truth of what’s really occurring beneath the fame and idolatry. That’s when we see the pain of a life that has forced her to build-up walls and refocus her vengeance upon those in arm’s length. And while Irma is able to break down those defenses in spurts, the constant spells of rejection compound to the point where she selfishly sabotages Elisabeth’s happiness for her own.

It’s a codependent relationship of love and admiration on both sides. Not romantic, but fiercely loyal just the same. And the more the curtain gets drawn back, the more Irma realizes the risk-taking and games are heading toward tragedy. That’s why everyone must take a side. How far will Viktor’s love for his sister-in-law take him in ensuring her safety? How large a gift of land is enough to change the mind of a close friend who says she’ll follow Elisabeth anywhere? Who here truly cares about the person behind the celebrity? Can we really count Irma as one considering some of the choices she makes? Can all be forgiven with one final act?

Sisi & I is a fantastic character study that does well to spend time on the masks these women wear as well as the lives trapped beneath. With great production value and modern costuming (Irma’s frills are literally burned the second she arrives in Greece), the film proves a feast for the eyes as the tomfoolery escalates to heights that ultimately ensure a rapid descent into melancholy. This rise and fall is helped by a surprisingly anachronistic soundtrack of pop songs (I gave myself whiplash the moment Portishead’s “Wandering Star” starts playing amidst period specific visuals) that invigorates the subject matter from stuffy to timeless. Because this struggle to survive the patriarchy still endures.


Sandra Hüller and Susanne Wolff in SISI & I; courtesy of Film Movement, photo by Bernd Spauke.

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