It's easy to see why Madonna would be fascinated by Wallis Simpson, the woman for whom Britain's King Edward VIII gave up his throne. The American-born socialite was an ambitious Anglophile who thrived among the Brits in their motherland, starting with her time living with a second husband in Mayfair. She was a stately, stylish woman (though not tremendously attractive), celebrated for her witty banter and obsessed over by at least one royal. Upon starting her romance with the king, Simpson forever became notorious, a misunderstood lightning rod of controversy until her death. Fascinating, yes. But that doesn't mean Madonna needed to make this film, let alone one that looks like a Calvin Klein commercial and sounds like a glum after-school special.
Still, for all its awkward dialogue (penned by Madonna and Truth or Dare director Alek Keshishian) and visual clichés filled with diffused lighting, the stylized flick features several interesting riffs on the existence of fairy-tale romance. The two-tiered tale takes the viewer from Simpson's (Andrea Riseborough) life in pre-World War II England to a late-20th-century Simpson fan, whose first name is also Wally (Abbie Cornish), on the eve of Sotheby's auction of Wallis and Edward (hence W.E.) memorabilia.
Though plagued by stilted lines, the actresses of W.E. do a handsome job essaying the soon-to-be Duchess of Windsor and the modern New Yorker obsessed with her namesake. Both women are fond of pedestal bathtubs, form-fitting designer dresses and were married to first husbands who used their wives as punching bags. While a fragile Wally reserves her strength (and smiles, for God's sake) for the end of the film and a relationship with a working-class Sotheby's guard living in Brooklyn, Riseborough is a twitchy joy to watch as she takes the woman-who-couldn't-be-queen from confidently poised to unraveled. She single-handedly gives this film much-needed electricity. Everything else is mostly W.E.A.K.
