The Role of the Reviewer: How can mere words describe the masterpiece that is The Princess Diaries?

Why bother writing reviews? My old English teacher used to remind us always that William Shakespeare never intended his work to be read, let alone analysed, and it always left me questioning the point of it all; why waste words on that which was never intended to be written about? Why write about something that shouldn’t be discussed but must be felt, must be lived? And what am I to do when dealing with a subject far, far greater than anything Shakespeare could ever have hoped to have written?

I find myself wrestling with these questions as I am tasked with reviewing that shining jewel in the crown of American cinema - 2001’s ‘The Princess Diaries’, and its sequel, ‘The Princess Diaries 2: A Royal Engagement’, starring Anne Hathaway and Julie Andrews. My laptop screen stares me down as I sit baulking at the inadequacy of my own words, trying and failing to convey to you the sheer wonder of the cinematic experience these early 2000s classics promise to deliver. How can I do justice to what Elia Kazan called the film “he wished he’d made?” To what Truffaut described as “cinematic perfection?” It is a mark of the film’s quality that Truffaut made these comments at all, given he died nearly twenty years before their release. Yet such is the power of The Princess Diaries.

We open on Mia Thermopolis, an ordinary schoolgirl, living with her artist mother in a converted firehouse. How they afford the rent on this palatial structure in downtown San Francisco is never addressed. Suddenly her grandmother comes to visit, to inform her that she is in fact the rightful heir to the throne of the small European country of Genovia. This goes some way to explain the rent. And then drama ensues! Young Mia is thrust into a world of indecision - should she take the throne, or eschew royalty for her quiet suburban existence?

Now, I know what you’re thinking: “Clearly, the character of Mia represents the political growth of 19th century America, as the country was forced to choose between self-imposed isolationism or embracing the internationalist responsibilities that come with being the world’s great economic superpower. Gosh, it’s ever so on-the-nose!” Don’t fret - on first viewing, everyone thinks that. That’s not to say the film is one-note: the beauty of this film is in its layers. How often do you come across a film that balances such incisive political debate with a romance for the ages, between Mia and a character played with so much subtlety, so much nuance, that I cannot remember his name, or his face, or any interactions he may or may not have had with Mia. What other film could so effectively explore the media’s stranglehold on modern American politics alongside a compelling dramatic narrative about the struggles of a single mother who can somehow effortlessly afford her rent whilst pursuing a career as a painter? What film could possibly do all this and still include the greatest makeover scene of all time, in which Mia is transformed from frizzy-haired mess (frizzy hair being entirely unsuited to royal office, obviously) into the picture of elegance?

If I am digressing into rhetorical questions, it is because my words are, as I feared, beginning to fail me. And I write this all without even having mentioned the franchise’s wide-reaching influence on the modern political sphere. Students of European politics will already know how Angela Merkel used the two films as a blueprint for her successful 2005 election campaign that saw her become Germany’s first female Chancellor. What’s more, the film clearly takes place in an alternate universe in which Genovia was once under British rule, explaining the cut-glass English accents of its ruling class. It has thus been hailed an inspiration and indeed a call to arms for those nations nobly fighting against the fetters of imperialism. In ascending to the throne as a woman of the people, Mia represents a new dawn of self-governance. There are even rumours that an as of yet unreleased third instalment of the franchise will see the Genovian monarchy toppled by a republican insurrection, in a kind of Michael Corleone-esque arc that sees Mia, once great liberator of her people, revealed to be a sadistic autocrat who’s been selling weapons to Iran. If that isn’t great cinema I don’t know what is.

I could write for days, filling reams of paper, and still barely scratch the surface of these films, such is their depth. The futility of my role as reviewer is all too apparent. Why try to describe the indescribable? To pin down the mesmeric beauty of Julie Andrews waltzing through the Genovian embassy? Why bother writing this at all when my words fall so far short of the real thing?

In my dejection I turn, as I am wont to do, to the word of the Most High. From the book of Isaiah; “A voice cries in the wilderness. Prepare the way of the Lord. Make straight a highway for our God.” And just like that, I see my purpose! What comfort there is in scripture! Truly this is the role of the reviewer. I am that voice crying in the wilderness. I am John the Baptist, preparing the way of the Lord. The Princess Diaries are the coming of Christ. And, feeble though my efforts may be, I must do everything in my power to point you towards these brilliant, charming, life-affirming films. May they bless you and keep you.

Amen.